


1983: Star

by Unajet



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, Angst, Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase Two Compliant, Pain, Romance, Sex, Sex Slave, Suspense, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 67
Words: 273,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unajet/pseuds/Unajet
Summary: Part One: 1983 - For the Winter Soldier, mission statements were to be followed precisely.  Take out his target, eliminate his guards.  So what was he to do with the female sex slave his target was holding prisoner at the remote cabin location in the Russian woods.  She was not listed as a target, therefore not part of his mission.  He had ten days until his extraction day to figure out what to do with her.  But he knows that he can not leave a witness, even one who starts to make him happy.  He would have to complete his mission...which now included eliminating Star.Part Two: 2014 - After finally being freed from Hydra by Steve, Bucky's memories are slowly coming back to him.  All except for the one of his mission with Star.  Why are they locked away?  Why does each new one cause him such physical pain?  Deciding to return to Washington to get his files from Steve, Bucky worries what he will find inside of them.  What significance did Star have on him?





	1. Mission Parameters

**Author's Note:**

> Hello out there!  
> So you understand, the first part of this is a Winter Solider story, not a Bucky story (which is the second half).  
> This was the first story I wrote and it has been previously posted on FanFiction (in case it is familiar to you).  
> I know that the first few chapters are a bit dry from my inexperience.  
> They take place with the Winter Solider not having anyone to really communicate with until it get a few chapters in.  
> Then he has to figure out how to deal with someone when that is not part of his conditioning.  
> The story has a bit of everything: friendship, angst, hurt/comfort, suspense, romance.  
> That's what you get with two broken people trying to understand each other.  
> After finishing the original story, I had a lot of request for a sequel to wrap up where it left off.  
> I have it completed and posted as the second half.  
> The writing does improve after a few chapters and I humbly ask that you give it a chance.
> 
> The {} symbols represent a translation from another language. For the entirety of this story, they will represent Russian. The songs listed at the beginning of each chapter have some kind of significance to that chapter. I wrote each chapter listening to that song (over and over) so I feel that reading the story listening to it will enhance the experience some (but it is not necessary). Also, later on in some chapters, the song listed will have a significance to the characters in the story or be actively mentioned.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

**Song: _Seek and Destroy_ by Metallica**

**1983 - Siberia - Mission: Yury Kozlov**

* * *

"{Ready to comply.}"

He watched as his Handler closed the red leather book with the star on the cover, placing it on the electrical console before picking up the mission folder. Sitting motionless in the Chair he turned his eyes to stare straight ahead while waiting for his orders. This is what was always expected of him and he knew to always comply. His Handler came to stand directly before him.

"{The mission parameter is to eliminate Yury Kozlov, leader of the Black Star Bratva. We have recently learned that Kozlov has made contact with SHIELD. He wants to arrange a deal agreeing to turn over information concerning the Bratva's dealings with HYDRA in exchange for immunity and passage to America. He has intricate knowledge of HYDRA's foundation inside of Russia. He _must_ be eliminated before any such deal is made and the information is passed on,}" his Handler began to inform him.

"{For this transgression, you will eliminate him along with any security that will be guarding him. He regularly has anywhere from four to eight guards traveling with him and this time should be no different. He has gone into seclusion but we have learned of a location where he _will_ be arriving at sometime within the next ten days. It is a secluded rural area so you will be inserted near the coordinates by helicopter and hike your way to the location. The remoteness of the location will prevent any communications with the base. You will surveil and remain at the location until Kozlov arrives. Extraction from the location will happen by helicopter from the location on the tenth evening after insertion. Come.}"

Standing up from the Chair, following his Handler toward the door leading out of the massive converted missile silo. Taking a set of concrete stairs up one level and through a winding corridor, there was a strange song slightly echoing in from somewhere deeper in the base. The sounds were lost as his Handler guided him into the briefing room.

After the mission folder was placed on the table, he waited until his Handler had moved back towards the door. Opening it, he began to scatter the folder's contents around the table. He looked over the numerous pictures of his target, memorizing his face from the different angles taken. He noted that Kozlov was not a handsome man, balding with thin hair, and he did not seem to care about his physique since he was overweight.

Kozlov traveled with multiple guards, all Bratva men with no special training beyond basic military and all carrying standard weaponry. This target should not pose a problem. There was nothing special about this target. Pathetic. Why was he needed for this mission?

Aerial photographs were sorted onto a corner of the table, showing the immediate terrain. The location was a heavily wooded large rural area a few short hours north east of Moscow. A single house with two outbuildings, one probably for storage, the other for his guards to sleep in. No other houses in the area, only a secluded lake within a decent walking distance from the house. The area would be sufficient, he decided.

There was a weather report stating that there would be a mixture of rain and snow over the mission days. As long as he prepared for the change, they should not interfere with completion of the mission.

"{What form of disposal for the bodies?}" he coldly asked after looking the papers over a second time to make sure he had all the information he needed.

"{On extraction day, burn the buildings with all the bodies inside. It will send a message to the other Bratvas so they know what will happen if they think of betraying HYDRA. The fire will also be your extraction signal showing the mission has been completed. Expect a helicopter pickup within 30 minutes of starting the fire. It will be the beacon for the helicopter.}"

Taking all the mission parameters into account, he knew that once Kozlov showed up at the location, there could still be a couple of days before his extraction time. The house would be a perfect accommodation instead of continuing to use the woods and trees for shelter due to the possible weather conditions. He could easily dump all the bodies in the guard house and use the main house as shelter.

Making up his mind to do that, he hoped that Kozlov showed up early rather than later. A few days to practice his targeting would be acceptable. The lake would provide the most distance for sniping. The area was remote enough that it would serve him well. He turned away from the table to go gather his gear, leaving the Handler to clean up and file the paperwork back into the folder.

Moving through the doorway back into the hall, he made his way directly across to the weapons and equipment rooms. For all of his missions, he was able to choose the equipment that he would take with him that he felt would help to accomplish the task.

Heading to the weapons room first, he chose his modified silenced bi-pod sniper rifle, putting into on the table center in the room for equipment gathering. He should have no problem being able to set up a sniper perch from a safe distance and make most of his shots from there. There was a chance all of his shots would be from a distance, unless he got bored waiting, then he could take it out on them in a bit more personal way.

Next he chose two sets of pistols, along with their suppressors that could be attached later. A utility belt would hold two, while the back shoulder strap would contain the others. Selecting holsters that would be placed around his ankles and thighs during the mission, he began to load them with an assortment of knives, one of his specialties. They were always useful when it came to up-close, silent kills. Grasping a k-bar, he felt the weight of it, liking the balance in his hand, so he added it to the pile. While waiting, he should have plenty of time to sharpen them to a fine hone as he took a sharpening block from the shelf.

Pulling boxes of ammo and a couple of extra magazines, he set them on the table and began to load the magazines. It would be pointless to carry them empty. Now there was space for even more ammo. He set aside five full box of ammo for the pistols to carry with him, but he doubted he would need them for the actual mission. He could also practice his standard shooting on the trees with no Handlers there to judge him on his ability. Pulling another two boxes of ammo specifically for his rifle, he began to carefully pack everything into a small weapon carry bag he took from a shelf.

Making his way to the storage room next door, he looked over the assortment of supplies. First he chose a large, black pack, throwing it down onto the utility table in the center of the room. Walking the room while judging the usefulness of the supplies offered, he began to throw items over his shoulder onto the table. A heavy blanket, a canteen, a change of underclothes consisting of a long sleeve shirt, underwear and socks, binoculars, a small first-aid kit, a ghillie-mesh webbing, and a waterproof tarp.

He hesitated while glaring at the last group of shelves, the ones he despised the most: the rations.

There was only one selection of nutrition bar that he could take from. A specialty high-calorie, protein and vitamin bar that was made to sustain his higher metabolism. On the shelf below, was a specially made drink for him. It did not need refrigeration and also consisted of ingredients that supported his system. Neither of them would ever be called flavorful in a good way. Far from it. HYDRA wanted the food to keep him alive and they did not care if he enjoyed how they tasted. They were the only part of this mission that bothered him. Grabbing enough bars and bottles to get him through the ten days that he would be alone.

It would weigh down the pack the most, and they were the least wanted item.

Paying no mind to the Handler, he began to load the pack with his selected items. Sorting the items in order of necessity, he glanced around to make sure there was nothing else from the shelves that he may find useful for a week in the woods. He was expected to be able to take care of himself on a solo mission like this and not have to rely on supply drops, which he had done on some missions before.

Surveying a target in the manner he would with Kozlov meant there no chance of a drop. If he did not take it with him, then he was out of luck if he needed it.

Zipping the pack up, he reached over to a wall hook that held a thick, black winter coat. The weather report stated that nighttime temperatures would be dropping slowly over the next few days. His higher core body temperature made any type of heavy sleeping bag unnecessary. Between the heavy coat and blanket, they would be sufficient protection.

Besides, he was hoping to have a nice warm roof over his head to protect him if the target didn't waste his time getting there.

Tossing the pack over his left shoulder, his sniper rifle over his right shoulder, and grabbing his weapon bag, he turned to look at his Handler, giving him a simple nod to indicate that he was ready.

"{Asset, the truck is waiting outside to take you to the airfield where the helicopter is already waiting,}" the Handler said taking the lead through the halls to the elevator.

He followed his Handler in silence, not having anything to say to him. His mind was focused on the mission, wondering how long he was going to have to sit in the woods before Kozlov showed up. No matter what, he had ten days before being extracted.

He began to wonder if he would get bored.

* * *

 


	2. Day One - Surveillance In The Woods

**Song: _Back in Black_ by AC/DC**

* * *

Stopping a couple of hundred meters out, the outline of the clearing around the house became visible. The helicopter had deposited him about five kilometers from the location, giving plenty of distance between him and the location in case the target had already arrived. He could just barely make out the shape of the dark house from here. There was no sign of occupation yet. There were no vehicles parked along the cleared areas next to the house, there were no lights coming from inside of any of the three buildings, and no guards were moving about outside. He would watch the house for a while to make sure, but it looked like his target had not yet arrived.

Removing the pack from his back, he pulled out his canteen and drank a small portion of water. The smell of the pine trees surrounding the area invaded his senses, calming his mind in a way to silence his thoughts of the mission for a moment. The woods were quiet with only the sound of wildlife scampering about. The sun was just now finally breaking over the horizon, but it would be a while before it made its way so that it was above the top of the thick trees. He knew that he was the only one around for miles.

Taking in a last deep breath of the fresh, cool morning air, he allowed his attention to focus back to the mission.

Being during the fall, the foliage was already sparse on the trees, giving him plenty of high vantage points to choose from to set up surveillance at. He decided to first take one lap around the property at a safe distance to verify the information that he had been given in the file.

Selecting a spot against a tree that was easy to hide his bags in, he covered them so that they could not be spotted. Their extra weight would just hinder a sweep of the area, slowing him down if the target arrived. He was not worried about getting back to them, he was trained for stealth.

As he had approached the house, he found that there were a couple of paths circling the property which the guards would use to do sweeps of the area, checking for seclusion. They seemed to sometimes intersect, changing the distance from the house, but always circling it. They were fairly worn but he noted that they had enough undergrowth on them for him to see that they had not been used in quite some time, maybe a few years.

Making his way around the property following one of these trails, he realized that for some reason near the backside, they came together and passed by a large area without any path breaking off towards the house. When the trail eventually had another split, he left the path behind, moving directly through the woods into the direction of the avoided area.

He came upon a trail that seemed to make its way directly from the back of the house and continued on into the woods. Someone used this trail enough for the path to have been well formed. Kozlov must have a reason for this path and he needed to know all variables for the mission.

Turning down the new path, heading away from the house, he quietly made his way through the forest to wherever it led. He made sure to keep a foot or two off so the side so that his boots did not leave any evidence of him being here.

After a short distance, he saw that the path ended in a small clearing barely the size of Kozlov's house. There indeed was only the one path leading into this area. It was free of underbrush and surrounded by tree, with only a large diameter tree stump off to the side that had numerous indentions from being used as a chopping block.

At three locations alongside each other were small disturbances in the earth, roughly two foot by two foot. They seemed to have been there for some time judging by the ground covering growth on them and each marked by a thick limb with an item dangling from them. Making his way closer, he saw what the item were hanging from the limbs: leather dog collars. Inspecting them closer, he found them secured with a small padlock while dark stains had soaked into the leather, discoloring them.

Each had a simple metal name tag hanging from them, engraved with names: Lady, Princess, and Jewel.

To him it seemed that Kozlov had a thing for small female pets, and that this was their burial place judging by the size of the graves. Maybe this revelation had something to do with why he had chosen this location to hide out in. It seemed that it had some kind of significance to him. There had been nothing in the file to indicate that he may be traveling with a dog. If so, he may have to take it out if there was a chance it would pick up on his scent and warn the target.

Rounding the clearing one more time, he headed back towards the house to continue his inspection of the area. Except for the trail to the lake, there was no other paths leading away from the house. All other information in the report seemed to be accurate.

Returning to the front side of the property so that he could see the road and front of the house, he began to scan the upper trees for a location to set-up in. After only a few minutes, he found one that would be quite sufficient. A sturdy trunk, with a good sized limb about fifteen feet from the ground that split into two limbs. There was still plenty of foliage on the branches to give cover to the spot from a distance. On the ground around it, there were minimal bushes and other plants that would hide his footprints.

Walking only a short distance away, he retrieved his bags, before heading back to his chosen tree.

Climbing up easily, he settled himself into the space formed by the limbs, looking towards the house. Just as it had seemed, there was enough area between the smaller branches to get an excellent view of it. He then removed the large ghillie-mesh webbing from his pack and began to secure it over the space between the limbs, forming a triangle area suspended above the ground. He now had a larger available area to work with, along with an area for resting in safely.

Next he removed the sniper rifle components and began to assemble it. Looking through the scope, he found that he had a clear view of not only the front of the two houses, but he was just high enough so that he would be able to see through the windows once there was sufficient light.

Lying down onto the webbing, he removed one of the hated ration bars and drinks from the pack. As he began to consume the hideous nourishment, he realized that meal times were going to be the worst part of this assignment. There was no real flavor to the items, only the bitter taste of all the necessary nutrients that would keep him nourished. Eating the raw flesh of a creature he could kill would taste better than these items. Even though the food at the base was hardly better, at least most of those meals were served hot. Forcing himself to finish off the items, he swallowed the final horrid bite and began to dread the next time he would have to eat.

Eventually the sun rose over the tree tops enough so that he was able to use its light to help him get a partial idea of the layout of the inside of the main house. Pulling out his binoculars, he scanned the interior, trying to see as much as he could but extrapolating the interior layout: a den containing a fireplace, chair, couch, table, kitchen area, a bedroom with the second fireplace, and the last area most likely a bathroom. Minimal furniture, plain bed, but there was nothing hanging on the walls, nothing to personalize the house.

Kozlov must not really spend too much time here. Three of the four windows were located in the large den and kitchen area, the fourth being in the bedroom. The two fireplaces seemed to be the only heat source for the small house. But there a small pump shed attached to the backside of the house, meaning there was well water and probably some type of heater for it. The very minimal basics was all that was here. Compared to the other well-furnished, extravagant houses listed in his file, it seemed a bit out of place.

The smaller house had only one door, which he found very amusing since it would box in the guards once the shooting started. It only had two sections, large and small, a main living area from what he was able to tell, and a bathroom.

There were electrical wires leading from the smaller out building to both the house and guard's quarters. They had to be for a generator since there were no visible power lines leading to the house from the road.

As the sun began to cross the sky, he stayed up in his roost watching and waiting for any sign of the target. Eventually he ate another bar to keep his energy up, not because he really wanted to. Even with the sun directly overhead, the temperature was remaining a bit on the cool side, a gentle breeze blowing through the trees.

The area was secluded enough that there was no sound of the outside world. No passing cars, no farm equipment, not even a plane traveling overhead. He noted that Kozlov must have wanted this much privacy for a reason.

As long as it did not rain before he got inside the house, he would not mind this assignment. There was no one to answer to, no one else to deal with.

All he had to do now was wait for his mission to arrive.


	3. The Target Arrives

**Song: _Another One Bites The Dust_ by Queen**

* * *

The sun was just setting in the western sky, barely above the horizon when he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. With the quietness of the area, he could hear the sound of the engine well before the glare from the headlights finally broke between the thick trees. There was only one vehicle moving toward the small house, a single gray van. It drove slowly over the potholed dirt road that slit through the trees.

Watching it over the next few moments, the van finally made its way to the circular drive that was in front of the house, allowing vehicles to turn around easily. Positioned as close to the front door as it could get, the van finally stopped. At first, only the driver and a passenger emerged, heading to the vehicle's back doors. Once they opened the doors, two more men emerged, bringing the count up to four.

Bringing the binoculars up to his eyes, he began to scan the faces of the men, looking for Kozlov, but none matched his picture. By their actions, it became quickly apparent that they were only guards. They each had a weapon strapped to their sides, but they all began to unload the van of its contents. The driver grabbed a black duffle bag then headed to the house's front door and proceeded to unlock it with a key from the same ring as the van's key was on.

After unlocking the door, the driver immediately headed to the small shed where the generator was located. Unlocking the deadbolt that protected it, he disappeared inside for a few minutes. The other guards began to move numerous brown paper grocery bags into the dark house. It seemed that once Kozlov arrived, he did not intend to leave for a while. Which was fine since he knew that Kozlov would definitely not be leaving here again, along with any of the guards.

As he heard the low sound of a generator turning on, one of the guards carrying bags inside touched a spot on the wall and the house lights were turned on. From his vantage point, he could easily see inside through the windows. With the extra light now being provided by the fixtures, he got an even better view of the inside of the house, but realized that there was not much that he had not already seen. The men continued to bring bags and a pair of suitcases into the house, as well as a few bags heading to the guard's house.

Placing the brown bags on the u-shaped kitchen counter, they unloaded the bags which contained a hefty amount of groceries. There was easily enough food to feed at least six people for the next week or more. It seemed like Kozlov's plan was to hide out here until his next communication with SHIELD. Turning on the bedroom light, one of the guards picked up the luggage bags and moved them into the room. It had to be the bedroom that Kozlov expected to occupy.

As it was the only bedroom in the house, that would mean all of the guards would be in the smaller house, none on the inside to guard their boss. Kozlov must feel very secure in this location, he realized. That would work to his advantage once it was time to proceed.

He guessed at the very least there would be a single guard patrolling the houses' perimeter during the night. A plan was already formulating in his mind on how to take them all out.

Continuing to watch the activity in the houses, he saw the driver close and lock the generator shed's door before heading back to the van. He had left the bag in the shed, more than likely filled with tools they would need for repairing the generator if it had not turned on.

Giving a shrill whistle to get the attention of the men inside, the driver stopped at the back of the van again. Waiting until the other guys exited the house, he directed two of the guys to remove another item from inside of the van. The two men pulled at a large rectangle item from the back, giving the other two a chance to grab it before it fell to the ground.

From what he could tell, it seemed to be a plastic dog crate made for one of the medium sized breeds. The men carefully carried the crate up the steps into the house, placing it down on the floor of the main room, in front of the chair that sat near the fireplace. They then went back to finishing getting the house ready for Kozlov's arrival, leaving the crate untouched. It looked like his assessment earlier that he would have to deal with a dog was accurate. Luckily, the guards did not allow it out of the cage to roam around and possibly give him away.

One of the men then returned to finishing up the task of putting the food into the cupboard and refrigerator, while another headed to the van. He drove it around the circle before parking it in a grassy area near the shed. The other two left the main house and made their way to the smaller house, the one they would be staying in.

When they had brought in their groceries, they had turned on the light, allowing him to get a view of the interior of the building. A simple place for them to stay, it consisted of a single main room which held three groups of bunk beds around the room with a couch, table and kitchenette. The last unknown area had to be utilized as a bathroom.

Turning his attention back to the main house, he saw one of the men now heading out of the back door. Minutes later, he returned with an armful of logs from a stack that he had seen on his initial inspection of the property. Making is way over to the fireplace in the den, he began to build a fire, stacking extra wood off to the side of the hearth for later. In a matter of minutes, he had a fire going, giving the first bit of warmth to the house. He then headed back outside, returning with more wood before heading to the bedroom to repeat the process. He could just make out the head of the man through the only window in the room.

After the two fireplaces had been started and the food finally being finished put away, the two guys headed towards the front door. As they left the main house, he saw that they left both doors unlocked. They felt secure enough in this location to leave the house open, knowing that there was no reason to be overly cautious. They would pay for that bit of stupidity soon enough by making his job easier.

Sitting back comfortably in the tree, he pulled out yet another bar and bottle to consume while he waited. The guards had all convened inside of their small building and were beginning to fix themselves dinner.

Starting the fires, leaving the lights on, not bothering to lock the house up…These were all signs that Kozlov would be making an appearance soon. He would be able to take care of his target tonight, it would seem.

A bit of interrogation to one of the guards to make sure the area would be secure for the next few days, and he could indeed use the house as shelter until his extraction day.

Since it seemed that Kozlov's arrival was imminent, he began to pull out the other pieces of his outfit that he usually wore into a fight. Taking off the heavy coat, he started by strapping the armored leather vest around his chest over the long sleeve black cotton shirt. The shirt would cover his left arm so that there was no chance that any light would gleam off of the metal and give away his position. Then he picked up his gun holster, wrapping it across his shoulders. Taking a pair of pistols out of the bag, he checked the magazines and snapped them into place before securing them into the holster.

Pulling out his blade sheaths from his pack, he placed them around his legs over his pants. Opening a small, metal tin he carefully began to smear the eye black over his closed eyelids and the surrounding area. After wiping his right hand on his pants to clean it, he put on a pair of gloves to protect from the cold and prevent fingerprints.

Lastly, he took out his face mask and secured it over his lower face. His hair reached down to just at his chin and the messy mane covered the rest. Now, there should not be any visible skin.

He knew the effect his overall full armored appearance had on the enemy, and it brought a twisted smile to his hidden face.

It was less than two hours later when he heard the first sounds of another vehicle approaching, the headlights appearing soon after. It was a nicer car, a silver Benz, with two persons on the inside, a driver and a passenger in the back seat. The driver pulled the car to a stop right in front of the steps to the house. Picking up his binoculars, he studied the vehicle intently.

He smiled as he was able to recognize his target, Kozlov, step from the back of the car, illuminated by the small porch light hanging on the wall next to the door.

Walking into the house without glancing back, he shut the door as the driver pulled the car around to park it next to the van. Kozlov calmly looked around the house, inspecting the area before heading over to the dog cage. Leaning over a bit so that he could see inside through the front, he seemed to be speaking to the animal inside, but he did not let it out of the kennel.

Kozlov then headed into the bedroom area, beginning to take off the suit he was wearing. Through the window he saw Kozlov begin to unpack one of the suitcases, placing the items into what he guessed was a dresser just out of view under the window. He could see items dropped on to the bed, clothing that would be more comfortable after such a long trip to this location, probably to sleep in.

He quickly turned his attention back to the car. After pulling the car out of the way and parking next to the van, the driver of the car removed a small bag from the trunk before heading into the guard's quarters. He could hear a cheer go up as he opened the door and greeted the others with a bottle of some kind of alcohol in his hand. If the guards felt comfortable, they may overdo their drinking, making this even easier.

Kozlov then disappeared off to the side of the room while removing his shirt, heading into the bathroom. After only a few minutes, he reappeared changed into the clothing he did not realize that he would die in, he thought. He then headed out to the kitchen, pulling a short glass and a bottle of clear liquid from one of the cabinets, most likely vodka. The report had stated that it was his drink of choice. With his drink in one hand and the bottle in the other, Kozlov walked over to the chair that the kennel had been set in front of and sat down.

For most of the next hour, Kozlov sat by the fire, talking to the animal in the kennel it seemed, but not allowing it out. He thought that this behavior was a bit strange, but if the animal inside was old or sick, it may not be in a position to move around much. As he continued to sit and sometimes talk, Kozlov made his way through most of bottle sitting next to him. The entire time, the guards stayed inside of their own house, drinking and laughing. Not one of them swept the area to make sure it was clear. They were all too familiar with the place to be on-guard.

Finally reaching the bottom of the bottle, Kozlov stood up and began gesturing wildly while seeming to be yelling at the kennel. He could hear the muffled sounds of the yelling coming through the trees to where he was perched. Turning the binoculars to the guard house he saw that none of the guards seemed to notice the sounds and if they did, it did not phase them in the least. This must be behavior that they were used to by working for Kozlov.

Looking back into the main house, he saw that the alcohol must have finally had an impact due to the fact that Kozlov began to sway on his feet. As he fell backwards to land in the chair, Kozlov began to kick at the dog kennel, giving it a couple of good whacks with enough force to make the item slide back across the small room away from him.

Watching for a couple of more minutes, he saw Kozlov slumped over in the chair, looking to be passed-out drunk. This would be the best time for him to execute his mission. Literally. Picking up his silenced modified rifle, he looked through the scope at his main target. His mouth hung open as he slept off the effects of the vodka. He would save him for last knowing that he was the most vulnerable of the group right now.

Turning his attention to the guard house, he knew that he could easily take two, if not three of the guards from this vantage point. Aiming at the guard standing at the sink, since he was cleaning and not moving as much as the others, he pulled the trigger, placing a bullet in the back of his head. He was not sure if it was the sound of the glass in the window being punctured or the sound of the guard dropping to the ground with a frying pan in his hand that got the attention of the others.

Two of the guards stood up from the table, heading over to their fallen comrade. The other two had been sitting on the couch which was closer to the window, so they went to inspect the glass. As the first one got close enough to the window, another bullet left the gun and found its way into his head. The guard next to him dropped to the ground shouting as he realized they were taking fire. The other two guards in the kitchen area pulled their weapons and headed for the only door to the building.

The remaining glass shattered as the three guards left inside began to fire blind in the general direction out of their cover. His position in the tree was nowhere near compromised by their actions. Not one of their shots made it to his tree, thanks to the range of his gun compared to theirs.

Looking through the scope still, he waited for the move he knew was coming, the opening of the door. There was no other exit from the building that they could use.

As their magazines began to empty, the guards took a moment to reload before he finally saw a crack of light begin at the edge of the door's frame. When the outline of a head appeared, he smiled as he pulled the trigger. The shape fell to the ground, partially outside of the door, keeping it from being closed.

One of the guards then yanked the door open wide so he could make a run for the main house. He waited until the guard reached the house's steps before placing a bullet in his back. If he was still alive in a few minutes, he would question him about the location.

Turning back to the guard house, he could see a shadow moving from the doorway, indicating to him that the final guard was leaning with his back to the wall. Estimating his position using the shadow, he moved the gun slightly off to the left of the door's frame before pulling the trigger again. He watched as the shadow went from being up against the wall to being closer to the ground. The bullet had passed through the weak framework of the building and found its target.

Securing the rifle in his roost, he jumped down to the ground. All of the guards had been hit, so now he need to verify their deaths. If his assessment was correct, all but one should have been instant kills. He first made his way to the guard lying on the house steps. He was indeed still breathing.

Reaching down, he removed the gun that had fallen to the ground near his feet. Checking the shoulder holster, the guard was quickly relieved of his other gun. Glancing through the window next to the door, he spotted Kozlov still passed out on the chair before turning his attention back to the guard.

"{Is Kozlov expecting anyone else to arrive at this location over the next ten days?}" he asked the guard, while pressing the gun to his temple.

The guard turned his head just enough so that he could get a look at the person questioning him and instantly regretted it. Seeing him in his full leather gear with his cold, blue eyes bearing down on him drew a cry from his lips. He quickly turned his head away from the horror that was standing next to him.

"{No, no one. We were to stay here, waiting,}" the guard said beginning to take deeper breaths due to his injury. It sounded like the bullet had passed through his back and punctured his lung judging from the wheezing noise he was making while talking.

He pulled the slide back, loading a bullet into place. The man before him began to mummer to himself incoherently. He knew what was about to happen.

"{Will anyone show up here for any reason?}"

The guard just shook his head as he tried to take a deep breath.

Taking a couple of steps back away from the steps, the guard watched as he brought the gun back up, aiming at him. With a final ringing shot, the guard lay dead on the steps. He had made sure that he was just far enough away that he would not have gotten any blood splatter on this clothes. He did not feel like having to clean his armor tonight.

Looking again through the window, he chuckled as Kozlov still lay unconscious, so inebriated that the sound of more gunfire had not disturbed him, oblivious to the fact that all of his men were now dead.

Moving quietly but quickly, he made his way to the guard house to verify his assessment that all of his shots had been fatal. He was not going to take the chance of one of them appearing as he dealt with Kozlov. He would dispose of the last guard after checking the others, keeping his hands free to be on the safe side.

Inside, he found the other four guards dead from their initial wounds, as he had suspected. Pulling the ones located near the door into the center of the room, he piled their bodies together. Going back to the body on the front steps and again checking on Kozlov, he carried the body across the yard so that he could join the others. He shut the door behind him after considering checking the inside for useful items later.

Making his way back to the house, he opened the front door slowly, keeping his eyes on his target. The loud sounds of snoring assaulted his ears as he stepped inside the warm room. The only light in the den was being given off by the cozy fire that he saw needed more wood added to it.

The plastic kennel that had originally been near the chair had been kicked away so that it was almost in the corner of the room, the door of it mostly facing the wall. Due to the fireplace being between him and the kennel and the darkness of the room, he could not see inside. He would have suspected that a dog would have been barking at the sounds of the gun fire that had happened but there was none. He pulled his mind back to his main target.

He first checked Kozlov for any type of hidden weapon, but found none. He did not even stir as he was searched.

Holding the gun in his right hand, he reached back and gave a swing with his left arm landing a strong blow across his face. The force of it was strong enough so that Kozlov's slack form fell out of the chair to land with a solid thump on the floor at his feet. This finally seemed to be the action that brought Kozlov out of his drunken stupor as he finally began to speak incoherently.

Reaching down, he grabbed Kozlov by his shirt collar, forcing him up to kneel before him.

"{You should not have decided to betray HYDRA,}" he said pointing the gun at Kozlov's forehead.

Trying to focus on the object that was directly in front of him, he could see when Kozlov's mind finally registered what was happening. Adjusting his eyes to look beyond the weapon, he watched the look of pure terror cross over his face. It brought a smile to his face, which was luckily covered by the mask as he did not think he would be very imposing while grinning like that.

"{You do not have to do this. Please, I have money. Triple whatever you are being paid,}" Kozlov slurred his words while his body began to sway slightly from the alcohol. He may not physically be able to do anything about his situation but at least his mind was working enough to understand what was going on.

He looked down at the pathetic man before him and wondered if it was anyone else, would they have taken the money. Maybe that was why he had been sent on this assignment.

"{Are you meeting anyone out here? Is anyone else coming here?}"

"{No, but I can send one of my men to get the cash from one of my other safe houses. I do not have enough here,}" he said sounding hopeful that his offer was being accepted.

Kozlov had no idea as to why he was being asked these questions. If he truly did not expect anyone, and it seemed that he was not lying, then this location would be ideal until his extraction time.

"{I do not do this for money,}" he said giving just enough time for the words to register, and the look on his face told him exactly when it did.

Pulling the trigger, he put a bullet into Kozlov's forehead, the loud crack echoing in the small house. His body fell to the ground again, but now it was for the last time.

From behind him, he heard a noise start to emerge from the dog kennel. It seemed that the shot had finally made the creature inside stir. Cautiously moving across the area to where the kennel rested, he decided to check to see what breed was inside. Being just a dog, he could easily release it out into the woods. There was no longer anyone here to take care of it and it was not the dog's fault his owner had decided to betray HYDRA.

Reaching down, he took a hold of the edge of the kennel, lifting it up and turning it back towards the center of the room so that the fire illuminated inside so he could get a good look. But as he bent over to see inside the plastic box, his could not at first process what he was seeing.

Instead of seeing the dog that he had been expecting, inside of the cage was a female.

A naked bound human female.

 


	4. The Unexpected Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess by now you have picked up on the fact that the Winter Soldier does not refer to himself in any way other than 'he'.  
> Since he doesn't remember his name, I felt it appropriate to strip him of this mental personal description.

**Song: _Don't Fear the Reaper_ by Blue Oyster Cult**

* * *

He took a couple of steps away from the kennel so that he could mentally process his findings.

Kozlov had brought a female...prisoner?...out here? No matter what, it was obvious that she was not here willingly.

Then he started to consider that for the past few hours that he had been surveilling the house since the arrival of the van, she had been locked inside of that cage. None of the guards even checked on her after depositing the cage inside of the house. Even for the past hour Kozlov had left her inside of it while he was drinking and then passing out drunk. Then there was that he watched as Kozlov had been kicking the kennel violently with her inside.

Hesitantly, he stepped up to the cage again. He need to see exactly what he was dealing with. Rotating the cage so the interior was more towards the fire so he could see better, the light helped reveal the female.

Looking down at her, he could tell that she was young, probably barely past twenty years old. Her long brown hair had been braided sloppily and pooled on the floor. He guessed that if she were standing it probably hung down to her waist. Her body was frail, not to the point of starving, but it was obvious that she was not extremely well cared for. He would guess minimum meal portions for the past few years by the looks of her.

Even with his training for torturing information out of a suspect would not be as cruel as the situation she was now in.

She was bent over due to the height of the cage. She would have been kneeling but she had her legs off to her side so that her body's weight rested on her thigh. White rope had been wound around her ankles and just above her knees to prevent any movement. He could see red irritations forming at their locations due to the tightness of the ropes, probably also from her straining against them.

Secured around her neck was a dog collar, probably using a padlock just like the ones he found in the woods earlier, with a metal name tag dangling from it with a single word: Star.

The collar was attached to a small section of chain then padlocked to a hole through the roof of the cage. It would keep her in the same position, even preventing her from lying down on the cage floor. He could barely make out a leather sleeve that was encasing her arms, tightly binding them behind her back, in what he knew was a very painful position. There were torture techniques that used similar arm bindings.

Over her mouth was a cloth gag that held a large knot in the center of it, wedged inside her mouth preventing any loud sounds from passing. Her eyes were also covered in a folded-over piece of black cloth, tied firmly around her head, preventing her from seeing anything.

What he found the most disturbing was the fact that she was totally naked before him.

None of the other soldiers at his base were female. The only females he ever had contact with were targets or nearby civilians at the time of a mission. As he stared at her, trying to understand why she had not been in the mission report, she began to squirm and make the same sounds that had gotten his attention earlier. Hunching over so that he could get a better look at her face, he saw that her tears had formed spotty areas on the blindfold. He realized that the sound was that of her crying softly.

She knew that someone was before her, watching her, but did she assume it was Kozlov. She had to know what just happened. There was no mistaking the sound of the gun's trigger being pulled, the sharp crack of the bullet, and the sound of dead weight hitting the floor. Did she think it had been Kozlov to do the shooting?

She had to be frightened but still, except for the quiet crying, she was not losing control of herself. He would expect her to be fighting to get out, but she was not.

What was he going to do with her? She was _not_ part of the mission statement: _only_ Kozlov and his guards.

She was an unnecessary target.

Until his extraction in ten days, he had planned to use the house as shelter. All of the other bodies were in the guard house, which is where he had planned to move Kozlov's body. Her being here was a complication that he had no plan for.

 _If_ he left her alone, putting the kennel into the guard house with the other bodies, she would _eventually_ die.

But there was something inside of him telling him that he could _not_ do that, he could not just let her stay painfully trapped like that for the numerous days that her death would take.

But he could not release her since she could bring the authorities here, compromising his mission.

The immediate thing that he knew for sure was that he wanted her to stop crying.

To do that, he would have to open the cage and, at the very least, take away some of the bindings holding her there. She was not a physical threat to him in any sense, which was obvious. But no matter what, he needed to finalize securing this location before he did _anything_ with her.

Making his mind up on at least the next step, he moved over to inspect Kozlov's body to begin his search, finding the item he was looking for in his pants pocket. There was a small ring with five keys on it, which he shoved inside one of his pockets. Grabbing hold of Kozlov's arm, he easily picked his body up and tossed it over his shoulder.

Opening the front door, he made sure that he closed it hard enough so that she could hear it shutting behind him. Stomping angrily across the yard, he began to formulate a part of a plan as to what to do with the female, or at least how to deal with her for the next ten days. Tossing Kozlov's body inside the guard house with all the other bodies, he shut and locked the door. He knew that there were weapons inside but as of right now he was in no need of them.

Next he made his way back to his perch in the tree, glancing over at the house. There was barely any light coming through the windows now, since the fires in the two rooms had been going for a while without any additional wood being added to them. As quickly as he could, he broke down the perch and loaded up the couple of items he had removed from his pack before throwing his sniper rifle over his shoulder to head back to the house.

As he quietly opened the front door, the sight of the kennel before him made him hesitate for a moment. He could hear that the sound of her crying had increased, probably from not knowing if anyone was coming back. The sound of it formed a knot in his stomach. He had made plenty of people cry on missions but there was something about hers that unnerved him.

Dropping his pack on the floor next to the front door, he placed his rifle next to it, making sure that it was not chambered and the safety was on. At hearing the sound of his return, she quieted down some which helped to calm his irritation at the situation a bit.

He needed to figure out how he could contain her without leaving her inside of the kennel. Kozlov had to have something planned for keeping her here. He needed to search the house, which should not take long considering its small size. Moving towards the back door, from the corner of his eye he spotted something sticking out from underneath the couch.

Reaching down, he pulled at the length of chain that had been partially hidden underneath. The end of it had a metal cuff on it that locked. Taking a moment, he check the cuff on the chain and found that one of the keys did indeed fit its lock. Continuing to pull until it stopped, he moved the couch enough so that he could see that it was bolted to the floor. Looking around the room he realized that it was actually in the center of the room, equal distance between the front, back, and bedroom doors.

Heading into the bedroom, he found that there was another length of chain bolted to the floor to the side of the bed, closer to the bathroom. Picking up the chain, he tested the length and found that it would reach so the wearer could move the distance of the tub but not quite make it to the bedroom's door, confining them inside.

These chains were how Kozlov intended to keep her secured here. And it would have to work for him.

Taking loud, deliberate steps toward the cage, he pulled the keys from his pocket, allowing the sound of them to jingle so she could hear. The change in her was instantaneous. Her low crying changed to the sounds of laughter, as if she was happy. She had to have been in similar situations before and found the keys a familiar sound. She knew that she was about to be released from the cage.

Opening the kennel door and reaching inside, he then released the lock holding her collar to the cage. As soon as it was free, her entire body fell as if she had fainted, her head partially lying outside of the cage. Gently using his fingers to move her braided hair from her neck, he could then see the red irritating ring that had form there. Her muscles had to have been strained to the point that she was not able to hold herself up any longer, allowing her body to use the collar as a resting point. That was a dangerous thing to do, he noted, as she could have cut off her oxygen by doing so, suffocating herself.

Reaching inside the cage, he slipped his left arm under her shoulder, easily lifting her small body's weight. Pulling her out of the door, he used his right arm to adjust her legs, trying to get them straightened out. But as they began to move, she cried out slightly at the pain from her muscles moving to a different position after so long of being bent underneath her.

Lying her down onto the bare wood floor, he made sure that she was on her belly, keeping her bound arms where he could get to them. She was still making crying sounds every once in a while from her blood beginning to flow once again into her sore legs. He stood awkwardly waiting for a few minutes but she never tried moving in the slightest from where he had laid her.

When her crying had stopped and her breathing had become steady, he reached down and pulled the blindfold off of her eyes. She kept them closed as they both knew that they would be sensitive even to the low light from the fire. Slowly he saw her begin to crack them open, giving them plenty of time to adjust. They began to do a sweep around the room, taking in her new environment before they finally fell on his form, crouching next to her.

That was when her demeanor dramatically changed.

The girl began to scream behind her gag at the sight of him, so close and so unexpected. He had not even considered changing his appearance to something a bit less scary. She suddenly twisted her bound body away from him, trying to move away in the opposite direction, hoping for some form of escape. He was easily able to reach out, placing his left hand on her restrained arms, his right grabbing the rope surround her knees.

With just those simple touches, she stop all movement from her, her forehead resting on the floor but the crying then resumed.

"{I need you to be quiet,}" he calmly stated to her, hopeful that she would do as he said quickly. The sorrowful sounds that had been coming from her since her discovery were beginning to get on his nerves. "{Do you understand me?}"

Without looking over at him, she began to shake her head. Was she refusing to do as he said, he wondered? He was trying to be nice to her, so he didn't know why she would not do as he said. He knew that she was scared but it was Kozlov that had put her into this predicament, not him. But he did notice that she had quieted down, not yelling behind the gag anymore. Maybe she was just too confused by the situation to know what to do.

"{I know that you are scared but you will listen to me and do exactly what I say. If I have to, I will not hesitate to put you back into the cage. Become too much of a problem for me, and I will have to dispose of you immediately in a more permanent way.}"

The girl again began to shake her head, but now he could hear that she was trying to speak from behind the gag. He had hoped to have her agree to at least not screaming out when he removed the gag, mostly because it was useless out here in the middle of nowhere, but she seemed desperate to tell him something.

Slowly slipping one of his knives from its sleeve, he made a point of holding it so that she could see it and take in its meaning. As his hand with the knife made its way closer to her face, he could see the fear appear, making her close her eyes. With his free hand, he pulled the cloth gag away from her skin far enough so that he could slip the knife under it, before giving it a pull, freeing her from the gag.

"{Sir, I do not speak Russian. Sir, I do not speak Russian,}" the girl began to quietly whisper while repeating the phrase over and over. Her eyes were still closed as if she were trying to make herself forget what she had seen, him.

He slowly rose and took a step back to give a bit of space, taking in this new piece of information she had given him. If she did not speak Russian, then what did she speak and how did she end up with Kozlov? He knew a couple of languages, but did he want her to know that? If she believed that he only spoke Russian, it may give him an advantage.

"{Where are you from?}" he asked moving to stand above her, knowing that he looked intimidating in doing so, now trying to use it to his advantage to get the truth from her. He was curious as to how she would respond to him continuing his speaking in only Russian.

"{Sir, I do not speak Russian. Sir, I am American,}" she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

At least it seemed that he did not have to worry about her screaming for help. He was standing next to her and could barely make out what she was saying.

"{American?}" he responded, extremely curious to her response. He was well versed in the American language, it being the first one that his Handlers had taught him. His memories were non-existent to the actual lessons, but he knew the language, as well as a few others.

"Yes, Sir," she spoke softly in English, still refusing to open her eyes and look at him. Her body slowly began to move, testing her feet and legs, trying to make herself a bit more comfortable. The next item he wanted to remove was the sleeve, but he knew that when he did, it would be a most painful experience, like her legs. He was sure that it was long ago when she had lost most of the blood flow to her limbs due to their constriction. And when he released her, she was sure to start crying again from the pain.

"{I am not going to hurt you but your arms will be in pain,}" he said wondering if she understood any of that.

Bending down next to her, he examined the sleeve, trying to determine the best and safest way to remove it from her. It was laced up the back similar to how a boot was, which meant that he could just slip the string from the holes. He was hesitant to use his knife to slice the leather open, worrying that he may accidentally cut her arm trying to free her.

It took him a minute to try and figure out how Kozlov, or whoever had put this on her, had knotted the string. It was overdone in his opinion, seeing as how there was physically no way that she would ever have been able to remove it herself. Giving up, he gave the string a cut just below the knot, removing the tangled mess.

As he pulled the string free, which started up near her shoulders, the result of her arms slowly parting and the blood being allowed to move freely, made her begin to whimper. Glancing at her face, he saw that she was biting down on her bottom lip hard, trying to hold in the scream that he knew she wanted to give. By the time that he made it all the way to her hands, and was finally able to slip the leather completely off of her arms, tears were falling freely from her eyes, but she only cried softly. Her arms fell to the floor, lying at her sides completely useless.

There was two things about her body that instantly jumped out at him.

First, with her arms falling aside, it allowed him to see her back's skin clearly for the first time, and it made him cringe. Her entire backside, shoulders to waist, was covered in scar tissue. He could tell by the shape of the different scars some of the tools which had been used on her. The two prominent ones were a whip of some kind and different types of knife blades. They were so numerous, there was no way to even count them. They were a mixture of new and old wounds, some looking to have been done years ago while a few others were only months old.

Second, he could see little round scars running the length of both of her arms. Again, he already knew how they had been made. He could tell by the scar sizes that her arms had been used to put out cigarettes and cigars. Most of them seemed to be old, but there were two that looked to only be days old. She had been tortured repeatedly, in different ways, for quite some time.

Had he ever been this brutal while torturing anyone on a mission? He found himself hoping not.

He knew that for as long as her arms had been encased, it would take a couple of minutes for her to recover any type of use of them. Since she was distracted by the pain, he slipped his knife through the ropes that held her legs together. Taking all of the items that he had removed from her, he tossed them into the dog kennel, slamming the door shut and making her startle just a bit.

Reaching for a blanket that was lying on the couch, he used it to cover her naked form, wondering if he did it more for himself than for her.

Knowing that she could not physically go anywhere, he picked up the cage and headed towards the back door. Opening it up, he glanced back at her, finding her lying still on the floor, not even trying to move. He barely took a step outside before tossing the cage with his left arm away from the house. He watched as it bounced and rolled onto its side at the edge of the woods, a good distance away.

Taking a couple of deep breaths of the fresh, cold night air, he hoped that he was not making a mistake by keeping her alive.

But right now, after seeing the mutilations on her body, he actually wished that he had made Kozlov's death a bit more painful, instead of quick.

* * *

 


	5. Meeting The Scary Stranger

**Song: _Immigrant Song_ by Led Zeppelin**

* * *

Still keeping her eyes closed as she heard the scary looking man begin to move around again, she kept waiting for some form of punishment for being too loud with her crying, but she had been in so much pain that she could not stop herself. It had been hours ago when she first had the pins and needles feeling in her arms. After that, they had just been hurting her with the pain steadily increasing. About an hour later was when she had finally lost all feeling in her fingers, finding that she could not even move them to try and get any relief. Compared to previous times she had been left bound, this had felt like the longest and guessed that it possibly was.

During the ride to the house, she had twisted her lower body from side to side, trying to keep feelings in her legs. After such a long trip, she had finally given up trying. By the time they had arrived, she no longer had any feeling in her back either from being hunched over for so long. At one point during the trip, she had almost fallen asleep which she knew would definitely kill her.

The collar would have slowly choked her to death, but she did not really mind that too much compared to all that she had been through, _and_ knowing what was going to happen.

Kozlov had told her almost two weeks ago that he had grown tired of her and that he would be disposing of her body when he had a chance. Since then he had told her repeatedly every day that maybe he would kill her tomorrow. He had even threatened to call the Ghost and have him take her away to play with before disposing of her. With the stories she had been told about the Ghost for years, it made Kozlov seem nice guy.

Every morning she woke up almost hoping that Kozlov would finally put her out of her misery. He cut her already small food portions by saying that he only needed to keep her alive because he didn't want to have to deal with hauling around a dead body. When Kozlov had his men begin to secure her for transportation, she knew that the day had finally come. What she did not expect was the scary looking stranger who had been the one to free her.

She had heard Kozlov and Scary Stranger talking, and she could pick up some of the words. But there was no mistaking the sounds of the gunshot and then the body hitting the floor. She had just assumed that it was Kozlov doing the shooting this time, just like the others. Thinking it was finally her time, she kept waiting for Kozlov to turn the gun on her like he had been promising.

He had been angry and yelling at her since he had arrived at the house. When he had begun to kick the kennel, the force of being jerked quickly had caused her collar to begin choking her. She could barely hold herself up as it was without his kicking. A few times, the force and movement had made her head strike on the roof, but luckily the plastic was a bit softer than wood.

After the initial fear of seeing Scary Stranger, trying to get away was the only thought she had. When he had laid his hands upon her arms and legs, she realized her mistake in moving. She was nothing more than a caterpillar with how she was secured. How could she have expected to be able to go anywhere?

She had turned her head away from him, not wanting to see those dark eyes, but she did crack her eyelids to get a quick peek of where she was. It did not take long for her to focus in on the gun propped up next to the door. She had once seen Kozlov use a similar rifle on one of his men who had stolen from him as he had been secured as a target on the far side of a warehouse, an example to remind others not to steal from Kozlov. Would that be how he would kill her? Why had he not already killed her?

When he began to speak to her, she became worried that by not being able to respond to him would make him angry. Even though she had been with Kozlov for around four years, she had never been able to pick up more than a couple of key words, and the ability of letting someone know that she could not speak Russian. Kozlov would keep her by his side in his office while he conducted business but she never could quite grasp the language.

Most of the words she had picked up dealt with his criminal dealings, such as gun, ammo, police, traitor, kill. There were a few words he had taught her so that he could command her to do something for him, such as clothing terms so she knew what he wanted, when to stand or how to position her body, and the names of drinks and food so she could serve him.

Instead of killing her, the Scary Stranger had freed her…well, sort of. He had at least removed her from that horrible box and unbound her sore limbs. When she had seen the knife, she assumed that it was to kill her with but he had just cut away the tight gag. Being able to take deep breaths for the first time in, she did not know how many, hours had been wonderful.

As he began to cut away the arm binder, she had to bite into her bottom lip hard to prevent a scream as the blood once again began to flow down to her numb fingers, the pins and needles feeling appearing in full strength. She could easily see Scary Stranger killing her for annoying him with a scream. Hell, she could see him killing her for fun, with the way he looked.

Hearing the back door shut, she made sure that she was still exactly as he had left her, something that Kozlov had literally beaten into her. One of the worst whippings she had received had been early on when she had been forced to kneel in the same spot for over two hours. He had left his office for something and while he was gone, she had taken the privacy to quickly stretch her aching legs.

But he had noticed that she had knelt back down a few inches off of where she had been. She had spent the next hour hanging from a chain in one of his warehouses after he had one of his men whip her back as punishment for moving without permission. Kozlov always made sure that her front side was not damaged. He said that it was the best part of his merchandise.

Footsteps came closer to her and she realized that she was holding her breath. She had no idea what he was going to do with her. Hopefully, if he was going to kill her, he would make it quick. That would be more than what Kozlov had planned, she was sure.

* * *

After standing in the doorway for a few minutes trying to decide on his next move while her body readjusted to being free, he closed the back door and headed to where the female lay. Looking carefully at the position of the blanket and her long braid, he could tell that she had not moved in the slightest. He knew that she had to be scared, but he had a feeling that there was something more to her stillness.

For the immediate time, he knew that she had probably recovered enough so that she could move on her own without any support or pain. She would need to deal with some of the basics after traveling to the house.

"{Stand up,}" he said, wondering how much Russian she actually knew. He did not want to give up the advantage of her not knowing he understood English unless it became necessary.

Watching her rise with only a slight struggle probably due to muscle fatigue, she made her way into a standing position right in front of him. She swayed ever so slightly, but she never faulted in her stance. She did not bother to pull the blanket up with her, allowing it to rest on the floor around her feet.

Her head was bowed, looking straight down at his shoes, never making eye contact. She seemed to have been trained into certain movements and even now, with it being him here and not Kozlov, she was still following those orders. At least she did not try and do something foolish like running from him.

He tried not to stare at her naked form, finding it uncomfortable, but something caught his attention and he could not pull his eyes away from it.

Since she had either been bent over or lying flat on the floor, he had not had the chance to see the small, pink star tattoo located just below her right collarbone. Its lines were straight, the color vibrant…it was high quality artwork. It had to be where the name on her collar came from.

"{Follow me,}" he said turning to walk into the bedroom.

He did not even have to glance behind him to see if she was obeying, he could hear her footfalls. Rounding the bed to where the chain was lying, he reached down and secured it around her left ankle. He was almost a bit disappointed when she did not even try to prevent him from doing so. He had wondered how broken she was, and this was just another sign that it might be pretty far. He knew the sight he was imposing right now, but she never even tried to stop him.

As he was about to stand, his eyes moved across her body again and he noticed a thin straight-line scar that passed across her lower abdomen, underneath her bellybutton. The cut had healed while leaving a barely noticeable scar that had not even gotten his attention a few minutes ago.

Glancing at the rest of her body now on purpose, he saw that it was the only scar on the front of her body. Even the numerous burns on her arms were only visible from behind.

"{I will give you one hour to use the bathroom. Do whatever you need to in there,}" he said finally standing and pointing at the smaller room. "{Do you understand me?}"

"Sir, one hour. Sir, bathroom," she spoke barely above a whisper, nodding her head but still not looking at anything but his boots. At least she seemed to know basic Russian words.

He moved away from the door to give her access to the room and let her do whatever she may need to do in there. She stepped inside the bathroom but did not bother to shut the door, another piece of training probably…no privacy. She glanced around the room before heading to the bathtub and turning the water on, letting it get hotter before stepping inside and pulling the shower curtain around. He noticed again that she did not fully hide herself.

He found himself watching as she then removed the elastic band holding her hair in the braid, using her fingers to straighten her long brown tresses. When she finally stepped back and began to let the water wet her hair and face, he decided to check the bedroom, to inventory what was there.

Kozlov's suitcases were off to the side so he decided to start with them, tossing them up on to the bed for easier access. Opening the largest first, he found it contained men's clothing and bathroom products. It seemed that Kozlov had only removed the clothes he had changed into, figuring he would unpack the rest tomorrow. Maybe that was a job he would have left for the female to do. The different shirts were of a large enough size that he could remove his leather armor and vest and use them over the next few days, not having to rely on his single spare shirt. They would also be much more comfortable to sleep in than what he was currently wearing.

When he opened the second suitcase, he stared stunned at the inside contents for a moment before slamming the lid shut hard. Kozlov had nothing inside of it but sex toys and devices used for restraining and punishment. There were even a few items that he had _no idea_ what they were used for.

Taking a deep cleansing breath and shaking his head, he opened it back up and double checked to see if there was any sort of clothing that he could give her to wear. There was none inside. Kozlov must have intended to keep her naked the entire time they were here.

There was not much inside of the dresser or nightstand either. A couple of more pieces of men's clothing, undergarments, socks. They were probably left here in case of an emergency. Overall, there was nothing that would ever indicate that a female had ever stepped foot inside of this house before, but if they had, they were not wearing any clothing.

That was when his mind wanted back to the graves and collars he had found outside...matching the one she wore.

Dropping his head, the realization of what had happened here before, and what Kozlov intended to happen, disturbed him in a wave of anger and sorrow. But it was now over and he would not dwell on it. He needed to focus on what _he_ was going to do.

Closing back up the smaller case, he shoved it underneath of the bed out of sight. There was nothing from inside of it that he should ever need. The chains on the floor seemed like they would be efficient for keeping the female under control for now.

From the other bag, he took out a plain large white t-shirt so that she would have something to wear. Due to Kozlov's large size there was nothing he could give her in the way of sweatpants or shorts that would not slip right off of her slim frame. He placed the shirt on the bed so that it would be the first thing that she saw when leaving the bathroom.

Returning to the living room, he went to stand in front of the fireplace, not that he needed the warmth of it, but he hoped that staring into the flames would help him to focus his thoughts. Focus them away from the small female that he was suddenly stuck with.

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see all the way through the bedroom and bath, his eyes landing on the partially closed shower curtain. He could see her body and arms appear peek from around the curtain as she cleaned herself. He had to force himself to turn back to the fire when he found himself staring at her before her shape fully disappeared behind the curtain.

How was he going to deal with her presence for the next ten days?

She had yet to give him any problems, which made him consider keeping her alive. If she had been listed as part of the mission statement with Kozlov and the guards, he would have just killed her in the cage. But the file did not even _mention_ her, or even _hint_ at the possibility of her being here with Kozlov.

Was she a test from HYDRA, to see what he would do when an unknown variable was thrown into the mission? That was a probability.

If so, then what did they expect him to do with her? Keep her alive or kill her?

He figured that he had the next nine days to figure that out.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier seems to have figured out something concerning the graves in the woods. Keep reading and you'll learn the truth about them along with Star.


	6. Awkwardness In The Air

**Song: _Accidents Never Happen_ by Blondie**

* * *

Standing under the hot running water, she could feel her sore muscles loosening up even more. She continued to roll her shoulders trying to work out some more of the residual pain they had, as well as stretching her arms above her head. Looking at the available products that were already in the tub, she picked up the one she recognized as shampoo. It had been a few days since she had last been allowed a shower.

Since he had announced his tiring of her, Kozlov had gone from letting her take a bath or shower to having only a wet wash cloth to clean herself with. At least the Scary Stranger was giving her his opportunity, even with the cuff around her ankle. She was used to being allowed only a small bit of freedom.

For the past two weeks, Kozlov had been mentally prepping her for her own death, but somehow Scary did not seem all that eager to go through with it. He would not be giving her the opportunity to bathe if he was just planning on killing her, or at least killing her tonight, right? When she had first seen him with the way he was dressed, she figured that he was the scariest man she had ever seen, which is saying something compared to what she had seen over the past years.

Scary's dark brown hair was at his jawline, but it did not look like he had ever taken a comb to it. Across his eyes, he had some kind of blackness smeared, guessing that it was a similar substance to what she had seen football players using on their faces. It did make the stunning blueness of his eyes stick out though, but they were cold and calculating, not friendly.

It was his black leather armor that he was wearing that had her curious. She had never seen a normal soldier wear anything like it, but if he had been specially hired to take out Kozlov then that would make more sense. But what did he have planned for her? The same as Kozlov, to use her then kill her? Since she had already resolved herself to dying, she guess that it did not matter much. There was nothing that she could do about it anyways.

When she was finally able to get the shampoo out of her long hair, the water was already getting cold. She looked at the countertop around the sink. There was no sign of any kind of brush or comb for her to use to straighten it out. Kozlov had refused to cut her hair since she had been with him. He liked the fact that it was long enough so that he could hold it while using her, as well as braiding rope into it when he wanted to tie her into different positions. But he had always allowed her the use of a hairbrush.

Now, it seemed that she was out of luck, and judging by the look of Scary's own hair, she doubted that he had one for her to use. She would just have to use her fingers the best that she could and re-braid it up and out of the way.

Even though he had given her an hour, there was little for her to do except stand in the dirty tub. It looked like it could use a good cleaning, as if it had been some time since its last one. At least there were a couple of towels stacked on the floor next to the tub. Turning the water off, she got out and quickly dried herself off. Using her fingers, she was able to get enough tangles out of her hair so the she could braid it. She slipped the ponytail holder from around her wrist on to the end to secure it.

She could see through the door all the way to the living room, but Scary was nowhere in sight. As her eyes drifted to the bed, she saw a plain t-shirt laid out. Was that for her? There was a chill in the air, the fire not having been going long enough to warm the house fully yet. When it had just been her and Kozlov at his residence, she had been forbidden to wear clothing inside. He only allowed her to do so while they traveled in a vehicle when others would be able to see her, and other rare occasions when men of the Bratva would see her. But she had not been given a direct order to wear it so not knowing if it was really for her, or what Scary expected of her, she decided to leave it where it lay.

Hearing footsteps approaching the bedroom door from the front of the house, she quickly moved into her waiting position, kneeling on the floor, head looking down. She had been trained to take this position any time that Kozlov would leave her alone without giving an order. She was quite used to kneeling by now. She saw his boots round the bed and to stop directly in front of her.

A moment later the t-shirt was dangling in front of her face as he held it out for her. He did indeed want her to put it on. Taking the shirt, she slipped it over her head, the extra-large size of it engulfed her body so much that it draped onto the floor, pooling around her legs.

His large gloved hand came into view out the corner of her vision, fingers waving upward indicating that she should stand, and offering her help up. When she placed hers into it, he helped her carefully up off of the floor into a standing position, while she kept her eyes trained on the floor. Without releasing her, he guided her to sit on the bed, which made her breathing start in a slightly erratic rhythm. Was he going to use her now? How painful would it be? Would he be as bad as Kozlov?

He must have heard the change in the sound of her breathing because he quickly took a step back away from her. Without a word, he just turned the bathroom light off and left the bedroom. She sat there for the next few minutes trying to figure out what he expected of her. Was she to continue to sit here? Could she lay down and go to sleep? He had not given her any order or indication as to what he wanted. Her training had forced upon her that she was to do no more than was ordered. But what happened when she was not given one?

She began to wonder if he was testing her, trying to make her do something so that she earned a punishment from him. That had been one of Kozlov's favorite pastimes. There was no way that she was going to allow herself to do anything wrong, not with Scary. None of Kozlov's men were even close to being as much of a fighter than Scary seemed to be, and she had seen many of the underground fights that the Bratva men enjoyed watching. It would only take one hit from Scary to brake any bone in her body that he wanted to. She would rather him just kill her than to drag it out like that.

So she sat on the bed where he had left her and stared at the fire, wishing that it was a bit larger since the nighttime's cold air was beginning to seep into the room. At least the shirt helped a little with that.

* * *

After leaving her so that she could bathe and clean herself up, he locked the back door before making his way out of the front door, noting that both doors required a key on the inside to lock instead of a turning deadbolt. He needed to finish up what he had started, and hopefully that would help take his mind off of the girl. Slowly rounding the house, he scanned out into the woods for any sign that someone was either approaching or watching the house. On his earlier scouting treks, there had been no sign of any, but finding the girl had put a doubt into his mind.

He next headed over to the generator house. The set of keys he had found on Kozlov did include one to the padlock on the building. Inside he checked on the status of the generator as well as looking over the fuel supply for it. It seemed that one of the things that Kozlov did was have a large gasoline tank installed to help power it. The gauge showed that it was mostly full. It would easily last during the time he was here before extraction.

Locking the shed back up, he made his way to the guard house. Once inside, he began to gather up the weapons that the men had on them when they had been killed. There was more than enough here in case he needed one for any reason. He found a bag one of the men had his belongings in and dumped them onto the floor before placing the weapons inside so that he could carry them easier.

Thinking back to the girl, he began to wonder if one of these men may have something suitable for her to wear besides the t-shirt. Dumping their bags onto the floor, one by one, he made quick work of going through the clothing. Luckily it seemed two of the guards had smaller frames, giving him a couple of pairs of shorts and sweatpants that she should be able to fit into. Those he placed into one of the men's bag to carry back. He also took a couple of other items from the pile that he believe would fit him a bit better than Kozlov's bulky clothing. He stuffed them inside of the bag along with the weapons.

By the time he was passing the outside of the house near the bathroom, he noticed that the sound of the running water was now gone. He knew that it was less than the hour he had given her but if she did not want to use the time, he was fine with that. He had been awake since the helicopter had dropped him off early this morning so he figured that by the end of the hour, he would have finished his rounds and be ready to sleep. Unlocking the deadbolt on the front door, he entered the house, making sure to let his feet fall a bit heavier than he normally would so that she could hear him coming.

When he looked into the bedroom he was not expecting what he saw. She had not put on the shirt he had left for her and she was kneeling on the floor, as if waiting for him. That must be another fragment of her training. He was beginning to believe that she was going to be a problem for him but not in the way that he had originally expected. He dropped the bag with the clothing for her by the bedroom door before heading around the bed to her.

He lifted the shirt up and held it down so that it hung into her vision. Without a word, she slipped the garment over her head and waited. He had no idea what to do with her. Reaching down, he helped her to stand and then guided her to sit on the bed. She had to be tired after what she had been through. He figured that he would let her sleep and just see what happened in the morning.

Instead, he could hear that her breathing had become quicker, shallower, as if she had become frightened. His mind quickly realized what she was thinking and he took a step back from her, hoping that she realized that he would not do to her what Kozlov had.

Leaving the room without a word, he left her to her own devices. He still wanted to check the weapons he had gathered from the guards to make sure that they were in a clean, working order. Heading over to the kitchen table, he placed the bag onto it.

Reaching up, he finally removed his face mask now that he felt comfortable enough with the location to not worry about his face being seen, even by the girl. He began to unload the guns from the bag, deciding to line them up on the table by their different calibers. Either they were not very creative or Kozlov had gotten a deal on a large quantity of ammo because they all consisted of 9mm's. At least he if he needed to use and reload them, it would be an easy task.

He reloaded the weapons into the bag, then looked around the room for the best place to store them. He walked over to the kitchen cabinets that were by the back door. There was space between them and the ceiling where they would fit, but also when the girl was in this room, she would not have enough chain to reach the bag. If he needed to he could later move the bag and stash it outside in the woods.

Finally feeling satisfied for the night, he decided to shower before heading out to the couch to sleep on for the night. Grabbing the necessary clothing for sleeping in, he walked back into the bedroom only to find her still sitting on the bed, exactly where he had helped her to sit almost half an hour ago. He could see by the look of her eyelids that they were heavy with sleep, but she still just sat on the edge.

He was about to rub his hands over his face in frustration before realizing that it would smear the eye black all over him. Instead, he took a deep breath before coming around the bed and placing the clothes he was going to use on the bathroom's countertop. Turning back to her, he gestured for her to stand with is hand, which she did. Pulling the cover on the bed back, he pointed to it.

"{Sleep,}" he simply stated, to which she immediately slipped into the bed, pulling a bit of the chain with her foot so that it was as comfortable as she was going to get. He was able to notice the small goosebumps that had formed on her legs, indicating that she was cold. She never complained. He walked over to the fireplace in the bedroom and put a few more logs onto the fire to keep the room warm.

Stepping into the bathroom, he glanced down at the girl, finding her still awake, her eyes open but not looking up directly at him. He shut the door behind him and started the shower.

It only took a few minutes for himself to get clean, mostly trying to get the eye black off of his face. Drying off with one of the towels stacked on the floor, he slipped into the soft cotton clothing, sweatpants and a short sleeve shirt. He did not want to leave his leather armor in here as his knives were still secured in their various places around it, so he gathered his items into his hands. She may be very pliant right now, but there was a chance that if she could get her hands on one of his knives, she may just risk the chance at getting her freedom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he saw her body stiffen at him being near her again. He stepped firmly around the bed and out of the door so that she knew that he had left the room. After a moment, he stepped back and grabbed the door's handle to pull it closed, giving her the privacy the he guessed that she did not normally have.

He placed a couple of logs on the den's fire to help keep it going through the night before altering the position of the couch so that he had a better vantage of the two exterior doors. With the couch now along the front wall underneath the two windows, with his head near the room's corner on the side closest to the fireplace, he could easily shoot anyone who came through the doors. He placed one gun under the pillow for his head, and another between the seat cushions. That should make it secure enough for a few hours of sleep.


	7. Day Two - Time For Breakfast

**Song: _You Don't Own Me (Remix)_ by Leslie Gore**

* * *

As Star tried to roll over onto her right side, her left leg refused to go along with the rest of her body. Her left foot was hanging over the edge of the bed, being weighed down by something. The chain, she realized, had all slipped off the bed and was now pooled on the floor, taking her foot with it. Opening her eyes, she realized that she had forgotten for a moment where she was. Which, technically, she had no idea where she was, just still somewhere in Russia. With Scary.

Wait…where was Scary?

Turning her head slowly as to not disturb anything, she looked over at the other side of the bed…empty. She was slightly shocked that he had never appeared and the door to the bedroom was still shut. He had left her alone last night, in more ways than one, she thought. She took a deep breath and fell onto her back, giving her left foot a slight tug to pull it back onto the mattress, the chain scraping the wood floor with just a bit of noise. She still remembered being scared when she was younger of something grabbing any dangling body part from a bed.

Now she knew that monsters were real and preferred to sleep _in_ the bed.

There was daylight coming in through the single window and the fire had burned down to a low glow, letting the chill back into the room. She pulled the simple quilt that had been on the bed all the way to her chin, trying to keep the warmth in. That was the best night's sleep she'd had in the past four years, she thought. Kozlov would sometimes let her stay in the bed with him, but he would roll over and smack her out of the way while he slept. He was violent even in his sleep.

Plus, he snored…loudly. Like a pig with a cold.

When she had not been allowed in the bed with the hog, which she found she liked thinking of him as, she would be confined either to the metal cage he had in the corner of his bedroom with only a thin blanket to use, or left in one of the many bound positions that he like to have her in. Some of them were even in locations where his men were able to see and watch her.

But none of them would ever try to touch her, not after what had happened. They now knew the penalty for doing so after one of the newer men had decided that he liked what he saw after a bit too much vodka one night. She was not sure how Kozlov had finally disposed of him after chopping his hands off with a hatchet right in front of her and his men as a warning. Then he had her bound and thrown into a dark closet to be locked away for the day for 'enticing' his men, as if it had been her fault.

She was so glad the pig was dead.

Now that it was morning, she wondered what to do next.

Scary had closed the door, making it so that she could not see or hear anything from the other room. Was he still asleep? Would he think to come and get her or should she take the risk and make some kind of noise to let him know she was awake? It had become obvious to her that he had no idea how to command her the way she had been trained. But she had been too severely punished if she did not obey commands. Would Scary do the same? Could she move around on her own, doing whatever she wanted? Would she even remember how? She couldn't even ask Scary. Communicating with him was going to be difficult with her lack of understanding Russian.

Why did that really matter, Star thought, since Scary was probably going to kill her like he had Kozlov. Picturing that overweight, sweaty, brute of a bastard lying dead somewhere nearby brought a smile to her face and made her giggle. At least she would die with the knowledge that he would not be able to do to another girl what he had done to her.

Star then heard a sound from outside of the bedroom door. Scary must have had heard her giggle. As her training kicked in, she quickly tried to get out of the bed and down into her kneeling position on the floor before he opened the door, but she was not quick enough. Scary must have already had his hand on the doorknob before she heard any sound because she could see his form framing the door as she finally got into position. Hearing him walk towards her, she cringed and her body stiffened as she waited for the first blow.

But it did not come.

"{Stop do that,}" he spoke to her, catching most of his words' meanings. His leather clad hand came into view as he offered it to her. She reached up and accepted the help with standing, but she kept her eyes cast downward.

Since she had seen his face the first time, Star had not looked directly at him. When he had left the bathroom last night after showering, she cracked her eyes enough to see his form walking around the bed with something shiny in his hand, but she had not gotten a good look at him, the only light being from the small fire. Now she saw that he had changed into black sweatpants, a black long sleeve shirt and black socks to wear to sleep in. The only strange thing were the gloves, figuring that it was not cold enough in the house for them.

"{Bathroom,}" he said gesturing to it letting her know that she was now allowed to use it. Making her way inside, she was glad that he did not follow, the way that Kozlov would sometimes like to do.

Instead, he closed the door, slightly startling her, before she heard the sound of him working on the fire, probably placing more wood on it. She used the facility and swished a bit of water around in her mouth to try and get rid of the foul morning taste she had. There was no toothbrush for her to use, so that was the best that she could do. Looking into the mirror she saw that some of her hair had gotten loose from the braid so she quickly redid it. She took a deep breath while trying not to think about what was possibly going to happen now.

Did Scary like to do his killings in the morning to free up the rest of his day?

Stepping out of the bathroom, head still down, she walked closer to where he stood at the foot of the bed and waited to see what he would command. The fire was already beginning to build back up so that she could feel the heat from it on her side. Scary bent down with the keys to the cuff's lock in his hand.

Looking at the top of his head, she saw that his shaggy, dark brown hair looked much cleaner than it had previously as it fell over his eyes to partially cover his face, but it still looked unbrushed. At that exact moment, with his head so close to her belly, it decided to let the both of them know that it was ready for food by very loudly growling. She closed her eyes in embarrassment.

Scary just removed the cuff and once he stood back up, walked over to a gym bag that had been lying on the floor by the door. Picking it up, he tossed it on the bed.

* * *

"{There are clothes in the bag that may fit you. Try to find something to wear,}" he said hoping that she understood some of that, but also gesturing from the bag to her. The room had been colder than he had expected it to be this morning and he knew that she needed more to wear around the house than the simple shirt she now wore. It did not even cover most of her smooth-looking bare legs.

He had been up for a while, already taking care of the fire in the larger room, but he had waited until he heard anything from the bedroom before going to her. He did not care if she slept in…he had no use for her. The longer she slept, the less he would have to deal with her. The more time to decide what to do with her. With very limited options.

When he opened the bedroom's door and she had moved to again kneel for him, he realized that he did not want her treating him the way she had done for Kozlov. He was _not_ going to be her Handler. He gave her a few minutes of privacy while working on the fire, which he would have thought that she would have added more wood to when it had become low.

Hearing her stomach growl as he was taking the cuff off, made him realize that she had not eaten for a long while. He had not even considered giving her anything to eat last night before sending her to bed. Not that she had complained, but then again, she wouldn't, would she.

She hesitantly reached over to unzip the bag he had offered her. His eyes were drawn to the silver tag still hanging around her neck. Seeing the clothes inside, she pulled out a long pair of sweatpants and some socks. When she began to put them on, he turned around and took a couple of steps towards the door to avoid watching her. He then decided that once he found some tool that would work, he was going to cut her collar off. She did not need it as a reminder anymore. The sound of her clearing her throat softly was the only indication he received that she had finished dressing.

"{Follow me and we will get something to eat,}" he said moving into the den, she following quietly behind.

Stopping at the chain in the den, she moved to stand before him and slid her leg out slightly so that he could put the cuff on easier. She complied without complaint. As he locked it into place, he began to regret having to do it, but he reminded himself that if she ran off, his mission would be compromised. He had seen her ankles still held rope burns from the ones that held her for the trip here but hopefully the socks would help to stop further irritation to her skin.

Heading to his pack, he pulled out two sets of rations. Thinking about the foul tasting items, he wondered how she would like them. It could not be only him that thought they were horrid, right?

Walking over and setting them down onto the kitchen table, he moved a bar and bottle over to the other side where she could sit down opposite him. That was when he realized that she was not there. She had not moved from where she stood. He gave a heavy sigh and dropped his head a bit, his hair flopping down even further onto his face. This was not going to work for him. He was going to have to be able to communicate with her since she had basically been trained _not_ to.

Tossing his head back firmly, he knew what he had to do. He stood and marched back over to stand directly in front of her, making sure his feet fell heavily on the floor. When her shoulders began to hunch up and her body tensed, he knew what she was expecting, to be hit, but that was not what he had in mind.

"I am not Kozlov! Look me in the face!" he said forcefully in English.

Her head came up slowly, her hazel eyes taking their time before making contact with his. Glaring down at her, he tried to keep his face neutral, trying to not scare her. Her expression changed quickly from shock, probably at hearing him speak English, to something that he did not recognize. It was not an expression the other soldiers at the base had, theirs were usually made of fear when they looked at him.

"I do not care what you have been trained to do, but from this point forward, you will not do _any_ of it. I will not order you around like Kozlov. We will be together in this house for the next few days, until my extraction day. During that time, I cannot have you running away and jeopardizing my mission. So…you will remain chained to prevent it. Do not try to escape! Do not irritate me! If you do, your time breathing will be cut short. Understand?" he calmly but firmly said, watching her expression change slightly as he spoke English to her. If she had not already annoyed him so quickly, he probably would not have let her known he spoke it. But there was no way he could handle the next few days being unable to communicate with her, having her frozen in place from fear of punishment wherever he left her.

She continued to stare at his face before allowing a nod of her understanding. He had changed into a black long sleeve t-shirt, not wanting to frighten her with his arm. The shirt made his arm match his right, but he did wear a pair of gloves to cover his hands. She was taking in his appearance and she no longer had the look of fear on her face. If anything, he would say she was curious about him. She looked like she wanted to say something.

"What?" he decided to ask, sure that otherwise she wouldn't speak.

"Sir, what name should I call you by?" she quietly asked.

He took a small step back, the idea behind the question irritated him a bit for some reason. He did not have a name, he had a designation: The Winter Soldier. His Handlers used the term Asset, but he did not like that even though he answered to it, so he thought for a long moment.

"Soldier," he said finally, hoping that it would be sufficient for her. She just nodded her head and accepted it. Her question made him realize that he would also have to address her.

"And you, what do I call you?" he asked.

"Star," she replied with the same name on her collar, but he noticed that she frowned a bit after answering. He just gave her a nod with his head in response.

He walked back over to the table and sat down, opening up his rations. She quietly walked over and sat across from him, the only sound being made was the chain dragging across the wooden floor.

Opening up the bar, she took a small bite and as she began to chew, he saw the look of disgust cross her face. He knew the feeling. When she opened the bottle and took a sip hoping to cleanse her mouth, she about gagged on the drink. Yes, he understood that too.

Star placed the items on the table, putting them at arm's length as it they were dangerous. She looked over at him as he took another bite.

"Sir, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I don't think I can eat this," she said casting her eyes downward as she spoke freely for the first time.

He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen, remembering all of the groceries that Kozlov's men had brought in.

"There is food in the kitchen," he informed her.

She then began to glance around the room, as if looking for something that she had forgotten about.

"Can I ask what happened to Yegor? He is one of Kozlov's men who is in charge of cooking for him. He always travels with Kozlov," she cautiously asked but he suspected that she probably already knew the answer he would give.

"There were five men who arrived at this location with Kozlov. They were part of my mission, therefore, they are no longer…a concern," he stated fairly bluntly without going into much detail, hesitating only a little while trying to find the right description to give her. He watched as Star simply nodded in understanding at what he was implying. He began to think that she should seem a bit more upset, either at the fact that men she knew had been killed, or at least in the fact that she was talking with the one who killed them.

"Do you know how to cook?" he asked knowing he had a curious expression on his face, doubt mixed with hopefulness. He also hoped to pull her thoughts away from the way they were heading. Right now, he did not want to have to deal with her getting hysterical if he said the wrong thing.

"Yes," she said, her face lighting up some. They both knew that anything would be better than the rations. Star looked over at the kitchen area before turning back to him. "Sir, can I…"

Star had started to ask for permission to move but quit when he gave her a stern look. Instead, she got up from the table and made her way over to the kitchen area. He silently watched her as for the next few minutes she inspected all of the cabinets, leaving all of the doors open, and checking inside of the fridge and freezer. When she took a step back, he could tell that she was lost in thought, planning something.

"Sir, about how many days will…..the food need to be stretched out?" she asked hesitating as she spoke the last part of the sentence, as if trying to word the question carefully.

"Nine days," he responded turning the chair so that he had a better view of her.

"Sir, I can have breakfast ready in about twenty minutes," Star said looking over at him with a determined look on her face, giving her a nod of approval. With that, she began to pull out a couple of cooking items, as well as food from the fridge.

Since she seemed to know what she was doing, and he had the time, he decided to go do a surveillance loop around the property. He wanted to make sure that the area had still been undisturbed during the night, but he had not wanted to leave her alone in the house while she slept. He stood up and gathered his mission clothing from where he had piled it on the floor near the couch last night. Leaving on the long sleeve shirt to soften his leather vest and putting on his tactical pants, he then slipped his combat boots on before loading up a couple of knives and guns.

"I will be back in _less_ than twenty minutes," he said checking to make sure that any other weapon was out of her reach, at the edge of the room. He looked over at her and realized that she had stopped moving and was staring at him. He had not put on the eye black or face mask, so he knew that she should not be too scared of him. Instead, Star just nodded her head and went back to moving hurriedly around the kitchen.

* * *

When Scary had closed the front door, Star let out a loud sigh of relief. While selecting the items she would need to cook, she had heard him moving across the room. Turning around to see what he was doing, she was stunned into watching him as he removed his clothes and began to change, right there across the room from her.

After seeing nothing but Kozlov's overweight form for the past few years, seeing Scary in such excellent shape had made her mind suddenly stop. There was no way after what she had been through that she should even be enticed by a man. But by putting on the leather vest over his shirt it only seemed to enhance his body, not frightening her at all.

As she cooked, she could not help but think about the partial face covered in ratty hair that she had seen when she finally looked up at him. She had still expected to see the dark eyes and hidden face that she had dreaded all night. She had not even thought about the fact that when he took a bath last night that he would clean that stuff off his face.

Nope, she could not think of Scary as anything other than the man that was going to have to kill her in a few days. She needed to enjoy this strange freedom she had for the time being. Quickly turning her thoughts away from him, she concentrated to cooking her first meal in a long time.

Luckily, Kozlov had a preference for American style foods, which meant that she found the pantry filled with foods she was familiar with cooking. Most of the items she had found were probably black-market here but Kozlov was rich enough to pay for whatever he wanted. And with his expanded waist line, it was obvious that he had.

When she had first been delivered to him, she had only been given minimal meals, to try and slim her down to the frail body form that he liked on his pets. She had heard the other men talking about previous girls, sometimes in English, but she had never learned what had happened to them.

Now, she realized that Kozlov did not just pass them along to someone else, they were killed. He had said enough while he was drinking to know that she was not meant to leave this place again.

And she still wasn't.

Again, she found herself trying to stop her mind from going over ideas that she should not be thinking about. So far, Scary had not outright indicated that he was going to kill her, but what other option did he have. Even though it seemed that he had felt bad for her situation when he discovered her, he had said that he could not let her leave because of his mission.

But once he was extracted, as he called it, what would she be to his mission then? Leaving her alive would mean that she could tell anyone about him and what had happened here.

She was a liability.


	8. Milk, orange juice, or coffee?

**Song: _Who Are You_ by The Who**

* * *

Even being mid-morning, there was still a slight fog left in the woods but not enough to help hide anyone nearby. As he circled the property at a greater distance than he had originally done, he could find no traces except for animals passing over the moist ground. The paths that wound through the woods needed to be more thoroughly examined, to see exactly where they led or looped and to make sure they all remained clear of foot traffic. From the distance, there were still no sounds of the outside world, reassuring him that they…no wait…that _he_ should be fairly secure here for a short time.

Glancing through the woods to where the house was located, he knew that he had to make a decision on what to do with the girl, Star. He knew that the easiest solution would be to just put a bullet into her and dump her body with the others in the guard house. If he had waited a few days, then Kozlov would probably have dealt with her himself. He had seen the opportunity to complete the mission and he was not going to second guess himself about that. Any variable could have happened later on: one of the guards getting sick, or them bringing women from the closest town to the site, or the rare chance of a guard patrolling spotting him.

No…the mission was almost complete. But who was the girl to him? She was not mission. She was a bystander. One of his standard protocols was to limit the number of civilian bystanders unless it compromised the mission. Since Kozlov was dead, she did not fall into the category of compromised, but more of a complication. A possible big complication when he was extracted, if he were to let her live, because then there would be no stopping her from telling anybody about him. He was nothing but a ghost, a myth. She could change all of that, giving details about him, even describing his facial features. Authorities could find solid proof of his existence. That would not do well for him. HYDRA did not accept failures, there would be consequences. To date he had never failed on a mission and he would make sure that this was not the first.

But it was not _her_ fault that she had been brought here, his mind came back to again. He was just going to have to give it a couple of more days and consider his options. Which were extremely limited.

Exiting the woods and crossing over the open space before the front of the house and going up the steps, he stopped on the porch to glance through the window. There was no lights on inside of the house, but he could see her shape moving across the kitchen area in front of the back windows thanks to the sun being out. He did not think that she would try anything upon his return, but that could always change if she believed that he would have to kill her. Which he probably would, he thought to himself.

Opening the door and taking a step inside, he froze in place. What was that smell? He absently closed the door behind him and began to walk towards where the aroma was coming from. Star was still moving about the kitchen, fixing food into two bowls that she had sitting on the counter next to the stove. When she turned to head to the fridge, she spotted him standing only a few feet away, staring down silently at everything she had done. He barely notice the slight jump she did when she finally saw him.

"Sir…milk, orange juice or coffee?" she asked standing before him with a pot in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, staring straight into his partially covered eyes. He let it slide that she was once again addressing him improperly. He needed to be patient with her. She did have that strange expression on her face again. He had no idea how to answer he…he was never given a choice on his meals. At the base, when he needed to eat, he was given a tray with food on it and he ate it without question or hesitation.

"Yes," he said hesitantly. Star just looked at him while raising her eyebrows in curiosity, but then she just nodded her head and continued moving back and forth in the kitchen. After a moment, when she realized that he was still standing, she pointed at the table, trying to indicate that he should sit. He found it amusing that it slightly reversed their roles for a moment. He headed over to his carry bag and put the guns and knives back inside before quickly heading back over to the table.

Taking a seat, he noticed that there were silverware items and cloth napkins lining the chairs they had been sitting in earlier. The ration packs were nowhere in sight. A moment later, Star walked over carrying three glasses in her small hands. She placed two glasses in front of him, milk and orange juice, and the other juice she put at her spot. Picking up the milk, he tentatively brought it to his lips before taking a small sip. Tasting the cold, smooth liquid, he realized that he liked it. Picking up the other glass, he sipped it. The acidic taste in his mouth was not as enjoyable to him, so he put the glass down, a bit further away than the milk.

Star then returned with a bowl of food, filled to the rim, with a cup of black liquid. Taking the cup first, he took a sip, then found himself drinking down half of the cup.

"Black coffee drinker…figures," he heard her say under her breath, now putting her own bowl onto the table, not as filled as she had made his. She sat in the chair eating her own food, savoring the taste if the look on her face said anything. Looking down at his own bowl, he did not recognize what the items exactly were. There was a white, runny substance topped with yellow chunks of something and brown flakes of meat. He watched as she began to slowly use her spoon to mix the items together so that when she took a bite, there was a bit of everything on her spoon. He began to do the same.

Knowing that there was no way her meal tasted any worse than the rations, he scooped a large helping on his spoon and took a bite. Compared to the base's cooks, this girl was a gourmet chef. Without thinking any more about it, he began to devour the stuff, not even caring what it was made of. He saw that she also continued to eat, just not as fast as he was. When he was done, he finished off the coffee in one final swig.

When he placed the cup down on the table, Star rose and took the cup from in front of him. Making her way to an ugly green metal canister plugged into the wall sitting on the countertop, she poured more coffee into his cup before returning it to the table and sitting back down, before continuing to eat. He did not hesitate to continue drinking it but he waited a moment to see if she realized what she had done.

"Why did you do that?" he asked slowing his consumption of the wonderful darkness down so that he was now only sipping on the fresh, hot liquid.

"Do what?" Star asked, before putting her spoon down and staring at his bowl. He realized that she was hesitant to make eye contact with him again.

"Why did you get me more coffee?" he asked, explaining himself a bit more. When he saw her head tilt downwards a bit more, he knew that she had just understood what she had done.

"Kozlov used to make you serve him, didn't he?" he asked but already knowing the answer. Star just nodded her head in response.

"Sir, I didn't mean to…it's just something that…I'm sorry," she sounded so worried, dropping her arms to her sides, as if she was waiting to be punished for doing what she had been trained to do. Star would need time. No matter what he said to her, she had been trained to undertake certain tasks and her mind would see to it that they were to be completed, no matter what he had told her.

But Star had seemed happy to be given the ability to cook, which was good since he had no idea how. He would have been content with eating whatever he found in the fridge raw. But, after eating her first attempt at cooking, he was definitely going to let her keep being in charge of meal times.

"Finish your meal," he said staring at the cup, knowing what he needed to say to her. "It was very good."

With that simple phrase, Star looked up at him with a large smile on her face, the first one he had ever seen on her. Relaxed now more than he had seen her yet, she picked up her spoon and finished eating.

* * *

Star scraped the last of the cream of wheat from the bottom of the bowl, making sure to get the piece of scrambled egg and crumbled bacon she had left for the final bite. Downing her orange juice in one gulp, she felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. She realized that even with her impending death looming overhead, being able to sit here, right now, was worth it. Scary was quietly sitting at the table, looking over at the fire, enjoying his second cup of coffee. She was used to sitting in silence, but this time she did not find it as uncomfortable as the others.

Feeling like she wanted to do something, Star reached over and took Scary's empty bowl, stacking it into her own before using her fingers to grab all three glasses with one hand. She had made sure to give him the bulk of the food, which looked like it was the correct route. She had actually eaten more just now than she was usually given during a meal. It was the first in a long time that she had felt full from eating. Usually she was given whatever was left once Kozlov had eaten his fill. With the way he ate, she had not been given much to survive on. But she also knew that it was to keep her weak and frail so that she could not fight back, but he had since beat it into her that fighting was not an option.

Scary had eventually drank the rest of his milk, but she saw that he left the orange juice practically untouched. Not wanting to waste it, she finished off what he had left in the glass. So, tomorrow, she would skip serving him that. Would she be around tomorrow? Would he want her to cook again? Walking the dishes over to the sink, she began to gather all the other dirty items she had scattered around.

There was no dishwasher here so everything would have to be hand washed after every meal. There were only a couple of pots, and they were all different sized, nothing duplicated so that space in the limited cabinets was saved. At least there was plenty of food, most of which she hoped she would be able to make into some kind of meal. As she turned the water on and began washing, she realized that there was so much food because it was supposed to have been for the guards, as well as Kozlov. Well, now they would have the benefit of it.

Scary seemed to enjoy his meal and had even complimented her on it. He didn't even question her as to what it was, he just ate it. She was glad that they would not have to eat those disgusting bars. How could he stomach those things? The bottle of whatever that liquid stuff had been wasn't any better. She had tossed all of it into the garbage can she had found tucked in the cabinet under the sink.

Continuing to wash the dishes, she found herself staring out the window more and more. She had been so focused on getting the meal ready so that Scary did not get upset with her, that she had only glanced out to see that they were in a wooded area. Looking out over the back yard area, she now spotted the kennel that she had been brought here in lying on its side. She knew that Scary had removed it from the house, and she saw that it looked like he had thrown it most of the way across the yard, almost to the tree line.

Not too far away from the kennel was a path that led off into the woods. Upon seeing it, she began to remember some of the rant that Kozlov had been yelling at her last night. Had it really only been just yesterday? She had been so tired and in so much pain that only a few of his words right now were coming back to her: path, walk, and hole. His rant had been about where she was going to end up at, with some of it spoken in Russian. Maybe down that path was what he was talking about. Not far from where the path started, the woods quickly became too thick so she could not see where it may lead.

Suddenly a covered hand crossed her vision, pulling the simple cloth curtain closed, preventing her from seeing outside. Turning her head, she found Scary standing right next to her. He had to have seen where she was looking and did not want her to look at it. What did he know about the path? Star opened her mouth to ask him about it but she was cut off before the first word left her mouth.

"Don't," he said turning and walking away, this time letting his feet land hard on the floor. She closed her mouth and went back to finishing the dishes. He _did_ know something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being early 80's, the 'coffee pot' is actually an old style percolator, an electric plug-in tall pot (let go with avocado green). FYI, in upcoming chapters you will notice behavior, phrases, and references from Star that seem a bit off. Even though she is now 22, since she was taken when she was 18 years old, she never matured past that point in her life when she was a rebellious teenager. All references to modern culture that she makes will be accurate to what she remembers and would have been available to her (books...movies) in 1978.


	9. What's There To Do?

**Song: _It's A Long Way To The Top_ by AC/DC**

* * *

When he had noticed that the sounds from the kitchen had grown quiet, he turned his head to see Star staring out of the window, her hands motionless instead of washing the pot they were holding. It only took him a moment before he realized what she was staring at…the path that led to the other graves. What did she know of them? Was she only curious about the path in general?

He stood, easily stalking his way over to where she was standing, even with his shoes on. He believed that with the intense stare that she probably would not have heard his footsteps if he had any. Closing the curtain, he watched as she opened her mouth to question him, but this was not something that he wanted to talk about right now.

"Don't," he simply said. It will be a conversation for later, he decided, but not right now.

Sitting back at the table, he tried to relax by just staring at the fire and drinking the rest of the coffee in his cup. He glanced over at the green device she had poured it from and saw that it had not been moved yet so it could be cleaned, which meant that there may be more inside. Star then turned her head to look at him and saw him looking in her general direction so she turned back around quickly. He wasn't actually watching her but when she had turned, his eyes had automatically found hers. He decided to wait until she was done in the kitchen before getting any more coffee that may exist.

With a clanging of metal, Star put the final clean pot on the towel she had spread on the countertop for the dishes to sit on while they air dried. She turned around then looked over the den area, the only other available place for her to access due to the ankle chain. He knew that there was not a lot to do in such a confined area, but the house itself did not contain a lot of items.

Star then slowly moved through the kitchen and around the table, making her way over to the fireplace. She looked the area over before grabbing the blanket from the couch that he had used last night to cover himself. Lying the blanket smooth on the floor right next to the hearth, Star then sat down on it, legs straight in front of her with arms supporting her up, facing out of the front windows to look at the top of the trees outside.

After she had been sitting quietly for a while, he decided to check the device for more coffee. He noticed that when he moved the chair purposely making sound so that she knew he was moving, she did not even turn her head to see what he was doing. Lifting the item, he could feel the liquid moving inside, and it brought a small smile to his face. He poured the last of the coffee into his cup before sitting back down in his chair. Again, she did not seem to care what he was doing.

At the base, whenever he moved in the slightest, the other soldiers and guards around him instantly became nervous, watching him with fear in their eyes. This small girl did not even seem to care. They both sat in their spots not moving and not talking...a strange comfortable silence encompassing them.

Once he had finished the last of the drink in his cup, he realized that he was still wearing his armor. When he had entered the house and the smell of real food reached him, he had not even thought about changing into something comfortable to wear. Since he still wanted to recon the area to find the layout of the paths through the woods, and he was already dressed for it, he may as well head out now. It was not something that he wanted to put off for too long. He needed to know a detailed layout of the area in case something did happen to compromise this location.

Getting up from the table and making his way across the room to where his gun bag was lying, Star only moved her eyes to follow him once he came into view in front of her. She watched as he checked the guns he pulled out before strapping them into place on his hip and back. Taking out his knife, he swiftly twirled it through his fingers before easily sliding it into the sheath attached to his right hip. It was well balance and one of his favorite weapons.

From behind him he heard a soft spoken, "wicked", come from Star. He looked around the room to see what she had seen, he had not heard anything to alert him, but there was nothing that he could find out of place.

"What?" he asked softly in case he had missed something.

Star pointed at the knife he had just sheathed.

"How did you do that?" she asked with a look of curiosity on her face.

"Do what?" he asked now looking down at the knife, thinking that something was wrong with it.

"Moving it around your fingers, twirling it. I've never seen anyone do that with a knife, only a baton," Star said sitting up a bit straighter to talk with him.

"It was part of my weapons training, using dexterity," he said, zipping the bag back up now that he was prepared to head out.

"Sir...could you do it again, for me to see?" Star asked coming to rest on her knees while sitting on her heels.

He found it a bit odd that this girl would be curious about how to twirl a knife around fingers, but he pulled it out and gave it a couple of turns before quickly slipping it back into the sheath.

"Far out," Star said never taking her eyes off of his hand as he did the maneuver. "Sir, can I ask where you are going?"

"There are paths that lead throughout the woods, encircling the house. I am going to recon the area to learn their directions and end-points. I will probably be gone for a few hours," he said standing and picking up the weapon's bag and tossing it on his shoulder. He had planned on moving it to the generator house while he was gone, wanting to remove any temptation that Star may have about using its contents to try and escape.

Reaching over to his backpack, he removed one of the bars and the canteen, placing them on the floor. As he was grabbing the jacket to put on, Star picked up the canteen and moved to the kitchen. Reaching over as she passed the kitchen table, she grabbed his cup and carried it with her to the sink, putting in inside.

Opening the canteen's lid as she stepped towards the fridge, she began filling it with a couple of ice cubes from a tray in the freezer. Then going back to the sink, she filled it with water before twisting the lid back on. Instead of heading back to him, she then opened the fridge and began to rummage around inside of it. When she closed the door, he spotted a red apple in her hand before walking back over to him, where he had just stared at her a bit shocked by her actions.

"Here," she said holding the canteen and apple in her outstretched hands for him to take. "It's not much but I'm sure that you will want this more than one of those harsh bars."

He looked down at her and began to wonder if she was being nice to him because she hoped that if she was, that he would not kill her later on. It was a good strategy, but right now he had not truly made up his mind. Taking the apple, he slipped it into one of the pockets of his jacket and slung the canteen strap over his shoulder. Without another word, Star went back over to the blanket and sat back down the way she had been, just looking out of the window.

Walking out of the door, he made his way over to the generator shed. Placing the gun bag on a box near the door, he began to look around the small building carefully. There were a couple of different tools scattered around hanging from nails mounted on the walls, standard tools to repair something broken in the house or the generator. Opening up the tool bag that the guard had placed in here yesterday, he found a couple of additional tools, but he spotted the exact one he had been hoping to find: a handheld pair of bolt cutters. He placed them inside of his gun bag for use later on when he returned.

Closing the door back up, he glanced around the yard area, trying to decide which direction to scout in first. Thinking back to the aerial photos, he chose to head in the direction of the lake that was nearby. It was the only other defined landmark in the general area. Walking around the house, he took another path entrance closer to the guard's house, which looked to be heading in the bearing he wanted to go.

* * *

Star watched as Scary closed the door and heard his footsteps as he made his way down the steps. He was going to leave her alone…for hours? He had to be very secure in the knowledge that nobody else was coming to the house, as well as the fact that she could not get out of the leg cuff. She was pretty sure that it was impossible to get out since she had already noticed the small scratch marks on it from a previous occupant. Someone else had already tried to use something metal to cut through it and they had not been successful. Besides, it did not look like there was anywhere to go and she was certain that if she made Scary have to hunt her down, he would not be gentle when he caught her, and she was _sure_ that he would be able to catch her.

Lying down to stare at the ceiling, Star began to try to think of anything that she could do to pass the time. Turning her head to glance around the room, she took in the other small pieces of furniture that occupied the den room. Besides the couch and chair, there was a single cabinet over by the front door, something that looked very similar to something she had seen years ago, at a friend's house.

Twisting up and walking over to the cabinet, she touched the fabric covering the side panels on the left and right. Pulling open the left door, she found it full of records. Doing the same to the right, she found more records and a few 8-track tapes. Lifting the top's hinged wooden lid, she found both a record player and 8-track player on the inside. Hitting the power button, she squealed out loud as the record player cabinet came alive. There was no television or radio in the house, probably due to the location not receiving a good signal, so this must be what Kozlov used to entertain himself. The sound system at his house was much nicer, and newer, but she luckily remembered how to use this kind.

Sitting down in front of the cabinet, she began to pull out the records, one at a time. They were all a few years old, some even a decade or more. Kozlov must not have brought any new ones out here in quite a while. Since she had time, as she pulled them out, Star began to place them in alphabetical order, to give herself something to do as well as hoping it helped her to remember what was available to listen to. Kozlov had mostly a mixture of 60's and 70's American and British bands, as well as some classical music. There were a lot of bands that she knew and had actually listened to back when she was home.

Pulling out the tray of 8-track tapes, she saw that they followed a similar mixture of music, but still nothing newer than about 4 to 5 years ago, the same amount of time that she had been with Kozlov. Was that a coincidence? She had never been brought out here during that entire time. She had to be right in thinking that this is where he brought his 'pets' to kill them. He had been telling her for weeks that he planned to get rid of her, so this had to be where he had planned on doing it.

Well…she was pretty sure that it was still going to happen, it just would not be Kozlov doing the final deed. It would be Scary. Thinking back over the past four years, there was no way to count the number of times that she had wanted to die, sometimes even praying that she would, just so that she would be free from the hell that she was forced to live in. Since Kozlov had begun to actively telling her on numerous occasions, multiple times a day, that she was about to die, she had finally accepted it and just wished that he would shut up, leave her alone, and get it over with.

But now, she was given a slight reprieve for at least a few more days. Scary had told her he was not going to order her around, and it seemed that for the most part that it was true. He had asked if she could cook, and she had enjoyed doing something on her own for the first time in so long. Even though her options were very limited given her location, she may as well try to make the best of her last few days.

Looking over the records again, she took a few minutes before finally choosing the album High Voltage by AC/DC. Kneeling on the floor in front of the cabinet and putting the record on, as it began to spin, and the needle dropped into place, Star held her breath waiting for the music to start. With the first sounds of the guitar and drums, Star stood and turned the volume up. As the song began to fill the house, she began to bounce with the music. Never had bagpipes sounded so good, she thought. This was something that she had not done since she had been in her own bedroom...so many years ago.

For the next few songs, Star just danced as freely as she could, closing her eyes and imagining being back home getting ready to go out with friends. She had always loved listening to the radio as loud as she could when a good song came on, much to the annoyance of her parents. Pushing the thought of them from her mind, she realized that she was actually hot from all of the dancing she had been doing. She had not felt like this in forever.

Making her way over to the kitchen, she took out the glass she had used during breakfast and filled it with some ice and water from the sink. Standing at the back door, she looked out towards the woods, which Scary was now submerged in. Opening up the back door, she breathed in the cool morning air. Fall air in Russia smelled very similar to how it did back home in the states. Or at least it did in the middle of the woods.

Taking a step forward, Star was able to stand directly on the threshold before the chain stopped her from going any further. Leaning forward, she saw that over to the right was another small building not too far away. It was about half the size of the house with a couple of windows and a chimney but there was nothing else she could make of it. No lights or movement or sounds.

As her toes, which were resting on the concrete stoop, started to get cold, Star stepped back and closed the door. Curious now, she made her way to the front door and found that she could stand in exactly the same area. Whoever installed the chain had made sure that it was exactly in the center between the two doors. Leaning out, she looked around the front yard. She saw the path cut in by tires to make the round-about for cars, but she noticed another small building off to the left. She could tell that it was not the same one that was visible from the back by the construction of it. Listening, she could actually hear the faint sound of humming coming from its direction over the sounds of the wind through the trees and loud chirping of birds. That had to be where the power to the house was coming from.

Scanning the woods, she saw no sign of Scary and there was no sounds coming from it to indicate that anyone was walking around nearby. Closing the door, she then decided to test the limits around the room with the chain. Due to the rectangle shape of the den and kitchen area, she was able to touch all of the walls except when she got close to the corners of the room. She realized that it was in one of these corners that Scary had placed his black bag that she later learned held his weapons. He had already figured out that she could not reach them in that spot.

Standing in front of the fireplace, Star began to look at where Scary had moved the couch. She figured that had to have been where he had spent the night since he had not joined her in the bedroom. The blanket had been on the couch when she had gotten it earlier to sit on. The couple of cushions it held had all been moved to near the arm furthest from the door. Going over to it, she lay down on the couch using the pillows for a headrest. Star was facing the front door with a good view of the back door also. With the couch so close to the wall, she realized that if anyone looked inside through the window on the porch, they would not be able to tell someone was lying down. Scary may seem to be comfortable enough in this location, but it looked like he was still going to be prepared in case something happened.

Lying on the couch, Star looked up at the blue sky thanks to the couch's position and began to think about what she needed to do to get a few more days before Scary finally had to kill her. The most _obvious_ way was to keep feeding him. Even though he had not thought to get a decent snack for himself, he had not turned down the apple she offered him. There was plenty of food, but she was limited to the meals she had learned from her mom and grandmother to be able to cook. During her inspection of the kitchen earlier this morning, she had found absolutely no cookbooks. She also guessed that if she had, they would be in Russian, making them of no use.

Realizing that the music had stopped some time ago, Star made her way over to the cabinet and pulled a couple of familiar records out and placed them on top the cabinet so that she could switch them when they finished. As she put on a Led Zeppelin album, she had the urge to do something...anything. If she was going to take charge of the food and cooking, she may as well organize the kitchen the way she wanted it.

Really, her options were very limited. It was either that, or try to think of how Scary was going to eventually kill her.

Kitchen items organization it was, she decided.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have not seen one before, look up 'record player cabinet' and you will understand what Star found. The speakers were on the sides, behind fabric covers with storage between them. They were also not small or portable like the ones today. They were considered pieces of furniture.


	10. Turn That Music Down

**Song: _Magic Carpet Ride_ by Steppenwolf**

* * *

With a few trips down the side paths that cut through the woods, he finally made it to the lake almost an hour after he had left the house. The path to it had built of a heavy layer of underbrush, making it look a lot less traveled than the others. The guards probably used the others numerous times making rounds during their stays at the house while on duty, whereas trips to the lake must have been rare.

The lake itself was a fairly good size and did not seem to have any flowing water coming into it as there were no waves or movement of any kind. There was a small clearing that the path made its way to and that was where he was currently standing, looking down at the small metal boat that was tied to a tree to secure it. Lifting the straps that held a tarp secured over it, he found that it contained two paddles and a couple of fishing poles. The guards probably used this as entertainment when they were here. He re-secured the tarp back down before taking a seat on a log that had fallen over.

Since he had left the house, his mind had been on alert as he had been trained to do, surveying the area, memorizing the paths. But now that he was calmly sitting looking out over the smooth water of the lake, his mind was instantly pulled back to thinking of Star. He thought that she seemed a bit too calm when he was around. Trained soldiers at the base were always wary of him, as if they expected him to attack them. But this strange girl seemed to be too calm and even a bit curious about him. Nobody had ever been impressed with seeing him pull his knife, but then the ones who were seeing it were usually on the wrong end of the blade.

Taking out his knife, he began to twirl it through his fingers and flip it around his hand. He knew that he had drilled the practice so much that he didn't even have to think about what he was doing, it was second nature to him. He had not even been aware when he had done it before sheathing the knife earlier when it had caught her attention.

As he watched the movement, he tried to think about previous times that he had done similar maneuvers, even trying to remember the training to learn how to do it, but for some reason not a single time came to him. It had to be something that HYDRA had trained him in, just like how he was able to assassinate his targets.

His mind began to flash back to the first moment he remembered, when he was sitting in the Chair as his Handler stood there. He recalled that the Handler had spoken to him and that he had responded but everything before that was blank. But he knew stuff. How to kill someone, with a gun, a knife, or even bare handed. How to fight to defend himself. What he would need while on a mission like this so that he could gather his equipment. Who HYDRA was and what they expected of him. What would happen if he failed a mission, which he somehow knew had never happened.

There was no denying that he had been well trained, probably for many years, so why could he not remember any of it. It had to do with the Chair, he decided. The Chair prevented him from becoming compromised. Maybe being in it also took away other memories besides just his previous missions. Useless memories like learning to do something, but not the actual skill. There was something nagging in the back of his mind about being in that Chair. Something that pulled a small piece of a foreign emotion towards him before it disappeared. Something that he was not supposed to remember. It would interfere with the mission…all of his missions. No, something told him to stop this line of thinking.

Pulling the apple from the pocket of his coat, he used the knife to begin to slice off pieces for him to eat. Star had been right, he realized taking another sliver, this was much better than the ration bars. Continuing to slowily slice and eat the apple, he tried to quite his mind by looking out at the lake, trying to figure out how fish would have gotten into it for the guards to try and catch. Maybe there was a stream on the far side that they could have entered from. Did Star know how to cook fish if he were to catch one?

He needed to decide what he was going to do with Star. With each bite, he told himself that rationally, when his extraction time came, Star would have to be eliminated as a threat. He would have to finish the mission. There was no way around it he realized. She could not leave this place, not with knowing about him, even with what little information she had. He would not allow himself to be compromised by letting Star tell the story of how she met him. If his Handler had known that she was going to be at this location, they surely would have added her to his list of targets. But why had they not known? HYDRA was not one to forget such an important piece of information about a mission.

Again he found himself wondering if she was a part of the mission to be used as a test, to see what he would do with a previously unknown variable. He would allow her the next few days to live as she seemed to be very useful with cooking. He had not minded the food she had made and she had even thought about giving him a real snack when even he had not.

As long as she did not try to escape, or get on his nerves by finally realizing her predicament and becoming crazed, she could live a few more days. But, he would have to keep in the front of his mind, that when extraction day arrived, she would find herself disposed of with Kozlov. If he did not do what HYDRA wanted, then he could suffer ramifications that would not be pleasant. Failure was not an option in his line of work.

Wiping the blade clean on his pants and sheathing the knife as he finished with the last of the apple, he realized that he had indeed twirled the blade again, without thinking about it. Taking the core of the apple in his left hand, he reached back and gave a fast pitch out over the lake. He was fairly pleased with the distance that he was able to make over the water before the apple splashed down. It did not have the weight of a grenade, and the aerodynamics were a bit off, so it did not go as far as he thought it would.

Hiking back through the woods he began to notice a reverberation faintly making its way through the trees once he was closer to the house. It was a pounding noise, conjoined with a screeching sound, as if someone were grinding metal pieces together. The sound did not travel far from the house, so there was no way that it had attracted the attention of anyone.

Leaving the trail before he became visible from any window on the house, he made his way towards it from the side closest to the guard house. There was no window on this wall, the back bedroom wall, so he would easily be able to get to the back door without being spotted. Taking a quickly glance towards the front of the house, he saw that there was no sign that anyone had arrived, so the noise had to be being made by Star. Was she hoping the noise would get someone's attention to help free her?

Getting to the stoop at the back door, he climbed his way onto it and began to stand so that he could see in through the door's window. The sound had steadily gotten louder as he had gotten closer to the house, but as he was starting to rise, the noise suddenly stopped. Hesitating, thinking that someone inside had spotted him, he froze into place. Seconds later, a similar sound began to originate from the house but this time he could hear the sound of a male voice singing. Suddenly, he heard Star cry out.

Rising fast, drawing his knife, and jerking the door open, he beheld the sight of Star in the middle of the den, on her feet while shaking her body in quick movements with her arms up in the air while singing along with the song that was coming from a device that he had thought was a plain cabinet. She continued to sway as he silently and curiously watched her dance, while her body was moving and spinning in a circle now during a part of the song with no lyrics. As she turned, he could see that her eyes were closed and with the music so loud, she had not heard him enter.

Sheathing his knife, he stepped inside the door and closed it behind him as he realized that Star had not been in trouble. Not taking his eyes off of her, he stared as she continued to move to the song, mesmerized by her movements. He had never seen someone dance the way that she was, no pattern to her movements, arms spread wide or moving above her, her head bobbing up and down. His eyes kept slipping down to her hips, which were making small round swirls. She was totally absorbed in the music that was playing a bit too loudly for his liking. There was also no way to hear anyone approaching with it this volume.

He then realized that she was not wearing the same clothes that she had been when he had left earlier. She had changed into an oversized black sleeveless shirt and a pair of draw-string shorts. Over on the couch, he spotted the bag of clothes he had presented her earlier, that had been left in the bedroom. How had she gotten it with the chain and cuff still on her ankle? Had she somehow removed it and put it back on? If she had gotten it off, she would have run away.

Walking through the kitchen, he realized that it was in a bit of disarray. There were a couple of food boxes and jars on the counter, as well as some old looking cook pots and broken utensils. It seemed that Star had gone through the kitchen and removed them from the cabinets for some reason.

As the song ended, Star finally opened her eyes and they were drawn to him standing only a few feet away, just out of reach of where she had been dancing. She was breathing hard, panting with a large smile on her face, which disappeared instantly as she focused on him standing there.

After a second of staring at him, Star suddenly dropped to her knees on the floor with her head down, into her trained submission position. The air began to fill with another song and he walked over to the record player and turned the volume down but not off. Turning back to face her, he snapped his fingers to get her attention. As she looked up at the scowl on his face, he gestured with his hand for her to stand, which she did, still breathing hard from dancing.

"Stop doing that," he said sternly. Pointing back at the machine producing the racket he asked, "What is that noise?"

"What…you don't like Steppenwolf?" she panted out with heavy breathing, tilting her head to the side.

"What the hell is a Steppenwolf?" he asked taking a step closer so that he could loom over her a bit more, knowing it might intimidate her.

"The band that's playing," she answered, her voice sounding as if the answer should be obvious.

"It was too loud. You did _not_ hear me come in, and you would _not_ have heard anyone else enter the house. Always be aware of your surroundings or it will get you injured or killed," he stated flatly, pulling a lesson from his training.

"Too loud? First…that's something an old fogey would say. Second…as for being aware of my surroundings, I think that I'm about four years too late for that warning," Star said kicking her cuffed foot forward toward him a bit, rattling the chain across the wood floor to make her point. "Third…the only one here that will kill me is you."

Taking a step back, he was a bit shocked at the bluntness and forwardness of her response to him trying to be intimidating. This did not seem like the same scared female that he had left here only a few hours ago. She was a bit more confident than she had been. Did the music have something to do with it?

"Besides…with what you do for a living, I figure that you should like metal music."

"I don't listen to metal music," he flatly stated.

"What? Are you more of a classical music guy?" she asked curious.

"No," he said becoming a bit aggravated at the conversation. "I don't listen to music."

Star's face suddenly changed to one of complete shock and disbelief.

"Any music? Why not?"

"Because…," he said before his entire body froze without uttering another word.

As he stood there with his mouth open, trying to think of what to say, he realized that he had no answer for her. There was never any music at the base for him to listen to. The only radio he used was the kind that allowed him to talk with other soldiers that he may be on a mission with. The vehicles that transported him from place to place never had a musical radio, and if they did, they were never turned on. The only time he had heard music was if a target had something playing as he completed a mission close range.

Star continued to stare at him as he thought over an answer but when she saw that he did not have one to give, her expression changed to something a bit softer. He could not tell what she was thinking. Instead, she moved around him so that she could turn the music down a bit more. It was now a low presence in the room, an acceptable level to him.

"Sir, are you hungry?" she asked changing the topic, turning back to him.

He just looked down at her small frame and nodded. She moved past him to make her way into the kitchen. Pulling open a cabinet door, she removed a frying pan and a pot, placing them on the stovetop and turned their burners on. She began to remove items from the fridge and pantry. He moved over to the couch on the far side of the room and sat down to watch her work.

He still could not explain why he had never really listened to music. Was it just that military vehicles and bases did not allow it? Or was it something else…like his Handler not wanting him to have it as an option? He began to think that this line of thinking was a bit too dangerous, just like him not remembering his training. This was the second time Star had brought up a topic that made him uncomfortable. How is that possible? She should be scared to death of him, fear him, waiting for him to kill her, just like everyone else. Instead she was making him lunch, without an ounce of fear on her face at him being here.

"I noticed that there is another building outside," she drew him from his thoughts while pointing in the direction of the guard house, a butter knife in one hand and bread in the other. "Is that where the others were going to stay?"

"Yes, it's a bunk house for the guards," he answered curious as to why she wanted to know.

"Then does that mean there are pillows and blankets out there?"

"On the beds, yes. Why?"

"Could you bring them over here? Only if they are clean. You know…with no blood on them," she casually asked, putting something into the hot pan. "Lunch will be ready in about five minutes, so that should be plenty of time."

Standing, he headed out of the house, closing the front door with a bit more force than he wanted to, with his mind trying to figure out what was wrong with this girl. Had she gone crazy? Usually when a target did, they were a bit more hysterical than the way that she was acting. He would say that she had become eerily calm and accepting.

Making his way inside of the guard house, he ignored the bodies lying on the floor. The only bed to have blood splatter on it was the lower one closest to the door where the man had been hiding, so he left it on the bunk. Throwing a blanket onto a bunk, he tossed the items into the center of it before grabbing it up to carry them back to the house. He was not sure exactly why he had just suddenly agreed to do this, but at least it got him out of the uncomfortable situation he had been in.

The same one he now found himself crossing the yard to head back into.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picture Star's dancing being a mixture of 60's Go-Go dancing, 70's disco, a bit of early head-banging and teenager freestyle.


	11. What Did You Call Me?

**Song: _For What It's Worth_ by Buffalo Springfield**

* * *

By the time Scary returned from getting the extra items from the guard house, dropping the items onto the couch, Star had their bowls of tomato soup and a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches on the table. She was not sure exactly what kind of cheese it was since the plain wrapper had no printing on it, but after sampling a bite, she found that it tasted good and should melt very well. After seeing Scary eat so well at breakfast, she made a couple of more sandwiches than she normally would.

As Scary sat down at the table, the same spot as this morning, Star placed the two glasses of milk in front of them before sitting down herself. He did not move until after she had taken a triangle of sandwich from the plate and took a bite of it, then he took one of his own. She watched as in three bites he had finished off the first piece. Star dipped the tip of her sandwich in the soup, soaking some of it up and placing the last of her triangle in her mouth. Looking over at Scary, he was staring at her with a strange expression.

"What?" she asked while reaching for another triangle.

"Why did you do that?" he asked indicating the soup bowl.

"Because it taste good," she gave with a tone in her voice to let him know that the answer should have been obvious, once again.

Looking at the piece in his hand, he then dipped it into the hot soup and took a hesitant bite. For the rest of the meal, he made sure to always dip his sandwich. Star on the other hand, finished off the soup using a spoon. With Scary eating enough slices for four sandwiches, he managed to drain the bowl using the bread as his spoon. How had he never dipped his sandwich in soup before? Didn't everybody?

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Star said as she finished off her glass of milk. Scary looked over at her seeming a bit hesitant to answer, but he then gave a gentle nod of his head.

"What do you normally eat?"

"On missions, I eat the ration bars. At the base, I eat whatever they serve me," he stated grabbing for the last piece of grilled cheese. She watched as he finished it off in only two bites this time.

"You can not possibly _like_ those bars, do you?"

"No," he said picking up his milk and finishing it in one long gulp.

"What do you eat at home?"

With that, he paused in the middle of putting the glass back on the table. "Home? The base?"

"Is that where you live? Sleep?"

"That is where I am between missions," he said standing up from the table, suddenly becoming obviously uncomfortable with her questions. "I do not want to speak of it."

As he went to look out of the front window, Star sighed, got up from her seat at the table and began to gather the dirty dishes. The house was quiet for the next few minutes except for the sound of water running and dishes clacking together, the record player finally having finished the stack waiting to drop down. Star had not opened back up the curtain over the window so she just focused on the items in front of her.

"Sir, can I use the bathroom?" Star asked as she put the drying towel over the faucet.

She had not heard Scary leave the room and he had not made a noise since leaving the table but she knew that he was still there. What she did not expect was that when she turned around that he was standing directly behind her, less than three feet away, leaning against the countertop.

"Why do you call me Sir, Star?" he asked standing there with his arms crossed, looking slightly menacing.

"Because I didn't think that you would answer to Scary," she hesitant, but honestly, answered him while leaning back against the sink, trying to put a few extra inches between them.

"Scary?" he asked his eyebrow raising slightly.

"That's what I have been calling you in my head since last night," Star said beginning to wring her hands uncomfortably. Why had she admitted that to him? "Also…I was trained to call anyone else Sir."

"Why not just call me Soldier like I said this morning?"

"Soldat. It reminds me of Master's guys. That's what he would call them…his soldiers," Star admitted to him not making eye contact as she did so.

He seemed to think about this for a few moments before nodding his head. Reaching into the pocket of his pants, he removed the key set that would unlock the ankle cuff. Star raised her leg up and braced it on the counter right next to him so that he would not have to bend down. He gave her a strange look but he did not say anything as he released her.

Star crossed the room to head to the bathroom while he stayed in the kitchen, watching her disappear through the bedroom door. She did not close the bedroom door, but this time she did close the bathroom door. Since he had indicated that he did not mind her having the privacy, she would take the offer.

As she finished up, she looked down at the dirty tub and thought that she may see if she could be given a bit of time to clean it. There was no way that anyone would want to sit down inside of it with the way it was, but a hot soaking bath did sound nice. It had been years since she'd had one.

Heading back through the bedroom, she noticed that the wood next to the fireplace only had enough wood to get through the night. Since leaving the room this morning, it had not been stoked so it was now only low coals glowing and ash. It would need to be cleaned in a day probably as well as needing to get more wood from outside, if there was any out there.

"Before the cuff goes back on, can I have a few minutes to take care of a few things?" she asked returning to the den and finding Scary still waiting in the same spot.

"What kind of things?" he asked stalking over to her, standing a bit too close for her liking.

"The blankets and pillows, I would like to shake the dust out of them, outside. Also, the bedroom is running low on firewood. Looks like the den is too," she said gesturing with her head at the small remaining pieces of wood across the room. Scary looked over his shoulder at the pile and grunted something that she could only consider a sound of agreement.

"There is a chopping block around the side of the house and there is an ax in the generator shed that I saw earlier. The pile of wood is sufficiently filled with logs but they will need to be split before being used," he said walking back over to his waiting pack of clothes by the couch. When he looked at the bag of clothes sitting on the couch that she had gotten replacements from it reminded him to ask her about it.

"How did you get this bag?" he asked lifting up the duffle bag.

"I used the broomstick handle that I found in the pantry. It was sitting on the bed but I could reach it with the stick," she said glancing down at the items she was now wearing. "Did it warm up outside or is it still chilly?"

* * *

"I can't answer that for you. I don't feel the temperature the same as you," he said beginning to remove the many knives and guns from his person. Removing the leather vest, he stripped down and left on the plain long sleeve shirt so that he could deal with the woodpile. He was a bit impressed that she was resourceful enough to get the bag using a broom.

"Front or back door?" Star asked grabbing the large makeshift hobo bag from the couch.

"Back," he said lining up his weapons on the couch into a pattern that he would recognize. He watched as she walked to the back door with the pack before quickly unloading the guns and placing the bullets into the bag. Star had left the door cracked open for him and he could hear the sound of a blanket snapping in the air. He wanted to see if she was given the opportunity, would she try to kill him. He knew that the possibility of her actually succeeding was extremely slim, but she did not know that.

Heading out the back door and closing it, he watched as Star continued to shake the blanket out. The fact that he could see the dust flying off of it made him want to go back inside and get the ones they had used last night, as well as the pillows off the bed. Kozlov had not been to the house in a much longer time that he had originally believed, he realized.

"How long were you with Kozlov?" he asked as he made his way down the stairs, spotting the pair of socks that Star had been wearing lying on the bottom step. Looking back, he realized that she was now standing barefoot in the grass.

"I think that it was just over four years," she answered while trying to fold up the first blanket.

"You have never been to this location before?" he then asked.

"No, but I have been to other houses."

So now he was beginning to wonder about the intel HYDRA had received about Kozlov coming to this location. If he only came to his place to dispose of his pets, then someone had to have known that he was planning on killing Star. Wouldn't that information have been passed to his Handler?

"Star, who knew that Kozlov was coming to this location?"

"I'm not sure. Some of his higher ups, probably. Why?"

"I was wondering why this location," he answered wondering what she would say.

"That's easy," Star said picking up a pillow. "He came here to kill me. Anyone who had been around him for the past two weeks would know that."

He watched as she began to punch the pillow while holding it up with her other hand.

"What do you mean?" he asked moving to stand upwind of where she was working.

"Since the meeting he had with SHIELD about two weeks ago, every day he would keep reminding me that he was tired of me and ready to move on. Everyone near him knew that. Right before you shot him, he was having a rant about how he was going to kill me in a few days. I've known that I would not leave this place from the moment I arrived here."

He stared at her as she spoke, her voice eerily calm at the topic and admission of her impending death.

"I'm going to go get the ax," he said before moving off to the shed. If she was going to run, this would be the time for her to do so. It only took a minute for him to get the ax and round the house again to where he had left her. Star was placing another folded blanket on the pile. She had not run.

"Why did you not try and run?"

Star turned around to face him. He knew what he looked like, standing there with the ax in his hands.

"Because you would catch me," she said picking up the final pillow and fluffing it out.

He admitted to himself that her logic _was_ flawless, but he had at least wanted her to try and escape. Why he wanted that, he was not sure, but on his other missions the targets would plead for their lives. This girl was resolved to her fate it seemed, and that did not sit well with him for some reason.

Making his way around the house to the wood pile, he began to split the logs for the fire. He saw out the corner of his eye that Star was gathering up the pillow pile and heading into the house. Splitting another log so that she knew where he was, he waited to see what happened when she returned, or would she try to run out of the front door? Would she try for a weapon?

After less than a minute, Star exited the house again and grabbed the pile of blankets before returning inside. Another log split as she quickly returned outside. Walking across the grass barefoot, she made her way to an area of the yard that was in his line of sight, but far enough away so that any wood splinters would not get near her.

Sitting down onto the grass, Star remained quiet as he continued to increase the pile of wood at his feet. With his strength, it would only take one swing to get all the way through the log. A few he would split twice for smaller pieces but otherwise the work went quickly. He never even built up a sweat. Most of the logs were now taken care of.

"Are you done chopping?"

"Yes," he answered slamming the ax into the chopping block.

Star then stood up and walked over to where he was. She began to collect pieces of the smaller split wood in her arms. When she held as much as she could carry, she made her way into the house. He had begun to gather the larger pieces of wood but he was able to carry much more, and so he was able to load most of the pile into his arms.

The back door was again left open for him to come in and he spotted Star waiting by the fireplace for him. She had already emptied her arms of the small load she had carried in. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the massive amount of wood that he was hauling.

Making his way to the hearth, he carefully stacked the wood so that they would not fall off. When he was down to about half of what he had brought in, he moved to the bedroom and finished unburdening himself. There was now enough wood for a few days before more would have to be chopped, even if the weather took a cold turn.

"Is there somewhere outside that would be like a garbage area?" Star asked from the doorway behind him. He had heard her approaching and wondered if she had picked up one of the guns to try and threaten him with, but when he turned, she was standing there with her hands empty.

"There is a can in the shed that garbage can go into," he said straightening back up.

"Good," Star said before turning to leave the bedroom and head into the kitchen area. When he got to the doorway, he saw that she was gathering up the items he had spotted on the counter when he had first gotten back to the house. Once the last of the items were in her arms, she turned to face him. "Is it open or unlocked?"

"Follow me," he said realizing what she now intended to do with the items. Heading back outside, he heard her footsteps behind him in the grass as they made their way to the generator shed door. He had not locked it so that he could put the ax back inside, but he had closed it to keep out any animals that may not be scared off by the loud noise being produced by the generator on the inside.

Stepping inside enough so that Star could enter, he lifted the metal can lid so that she could drop the packages inside. Closing the door back up, he saw that she was now staring at the guard house only a few more feet away.

"Would there be any more food inside of there?" Star asked turning to face him.

"Yes…there is a small kitchen area. But you do not want to go inside," he answered taking a step so that he was standing directly between her and the building she was curious about.

"That's where the bodies are?" she asked, leaning slightly so that she could look around his form.

"Yes," he said simply, hoping that she would abandon the line of thinking that she was currently on.

"Do you think that I _haven't_ seen a dead body before? Or even been there at the time it _became_ a dead body?" she said looking at him with an expression of exasperation. "Remember last night?"

He wanted to say something about her not needing to go in there but she stopped him as he opened her mouth by raising her hand with a stop motion.

"It has been over twelve hours since you killed them, which means that rigor mortis has set in and even though it is not warm, decomposition will start soon. That building is going to get very nasty over the next few days. If there is anything useful inside, we want to get it out now."

He stared down at the strange female that was standing in front of him spouting out information about dead bodies that someone like her should never have to know about.

"How do you know about rigor mortis?" he asked putting a scowl on his face, hoping to scare her into answering truthfully.

"Because I was once locked in a room for most of a week with a dead body. Kozlov would not allow me to leave until the maggots had turned into flies," she explained eerily calm.

He knew that the look on his face changed to one of disgust. Why would she have been subjected to something like that? Kozlov was a known killer himself but the fact that he would do something like that moved him into a new category of depravity.

* * *

Star stood motionless for only a moment watching as Scary began to process the information he had been given. Not wanting to talk about that time any more than she had to, she stepped around Scary since he seemed stunned in place and headed for the building's door.

Turning the handle, she took a breath to help calm her inner turmoil. As the door opened, there was no way to not look at the pile of bodies lying in the small den area. Kozlov was lying a bit on top of the others, indicating that he had been the last to be placed inside the building.

Turning her head to where the kitchen area was, she took deliberate steps towards it without looking anymore at the bodies, carefully avoiding the dried areas of blood on the floor. Opening up the small fridge, she found a couple of items that she wanted to take. Looking under the sink, she found brown paper bags used for groceries. Taking two out, she opened one on the floor in front of the fridge and began to fill it with items.

Opening up the cabinets, there were more staple items that she could use over the next few days. The second bag quickly filled up with more food. The only thing that she did not take were the bottles of alcohol. She had never drank and having Scary drunk was not something that she would ever want to see. There was no telling what he may do.

Turning back to the doorway, she saw Scary standing there looking at her without any type of emotion written on his face. It was flat and plain, and it almost made her a bit sad that it had been what she had told him that had made it so. He was actually kind of cute when he wasn't ruminating, but that was even harder to think about. But she had dealt with a _lot_ of things over the past few years. She was sure a soldier, no…an assassin?...could deal with hearing about death.

"Grab these two bags. I'm going to check the bathroom," she said before quickly moving into the small room, wanting to get away from his cold blue eyes.

There was not much in the bathroom but when she opened the medicine cabinet, she let out a small squeal of delight when her eyes landed on a hairbrush. Picking it up, it looked to be in good condition and was made of a firm, but soft bristle. She was not sure how it had gotten here, but she was happy that it had. Scanning the rest of the items, she grabbed a tube of toothpaste as well as the toothbrushes sitting in a glass on the sink. She decided that this trip had certainly been worth it.

Turning to leave the room, she found the doorway blocked with a body holding the two bags across his chest. He was watching her as she grasped the few items in her hands. He took a step back so that she could then leave. She dropped the few items into one of the bags to free up her hands. Before she made her way out, she spotted the other bags that the guards had brought with them. Not wanting to go through them here, she began to toss them over her two shoulders.

"I already went through them," Scary said standing right behind her.

"But you did not think to get the brush or toothbrushes, did you?" she asked turning to face him with the items making her hunch over. She heard him give a loud sigh as he made his way outside without saying anything else.

Before she turned to leave the building, she took a couple of steps closer to where Kozlov's body was lying. She saw that he had a single gunshot wound to his forehead. There was not even a drop of blood that had left the wound. Star stared at his dead body and began to giggle just like she had this morning when she woke up.

This scene right here was the manifestation of the dream that she had been having for the past four years since she had first been delivered to him. With a final thought, she suddenly spit onto his dead form before heading to the door where Scary was standing outside, watching her.

As she passed by Scary, she paused for only a moment to say, "What?" at the look he was giving her before heading for the house.


	12. Nighttime At The Cabin

**Song: _Child In Time_ by Deep Purple**

* * *

A few hours later found him lying on the couch staring at the ceiling above him, trying to figure out this girl. They had gone to having a silence between them once they had returned to the main house. Star had first put away the food that she deemed necessary from the guard house before turning her attention to the guards' bags that she had tossed on the floor in front of the fireplace.

After going through them, inspecting each piece of clothing and putting a couple off to the side into three piles, she had packed up the remaining things and moved the bags to the corner of the bedroom. He had not put the ankle chain back on since he was in the house with her and she did not question him about it either. He was sure that she was glad to have this extra bit of freedom. Her ankle was still probably sore from the ropes so the cuff would only have irritated that injury more. When he planned on going outside, he would put it back on but when she was near, he felt that it was unnecessary.

Star had then taken the piles new clothing inside the bedroom, spending a little while organizing the single dresser so that the items would fit inside, tossing a couple of items onto the bags. He was a bit shocked when he had checked on her progress and she had pointed out some drawers and told him that the clothes that should fit _him_ were inside of them. Why had she done that for him? He only wore the clothes from the supply room which his Handler had deemed appropriate.

He decided to take some time and remove all of the weapons from the house which he had left out to see if she would take, putting them back into the guard's pack. Star had not even mentioned anything about the guns having being laid out the way they were. His own weapons bag was still in the shed and he planned on getting it later once it was time to turn the generator off for the night. The shed would be fine for storing the extra guns from the guards until he needed them. He would prefer to use his own in case something happened.

Dinner had been very quiet with neither of them speaking. He was not sure if there was a name for the dish that she had made and she had not supplied him with one. He knew that it was chunks of beef and rice with a thick, dark gravy and that it had been delicious. Again, he saw that she gave him almost double the amount of food that she gave herself, but he figured that if she was hungry, that she would eat more. She had quickly picked up on the fact that he could eat a lot more than an average man.

Now, as he lay on the couch, Star was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, with her bare feet raised propped up on the hearth, getting warm by the fire that he had started once the sun began to set. There was some record playing softly that she had put on. The music eerily haunting in the quiet darkness. The inside of the house was not too cold and it did not seem that the temperature outside would drop by much tonight. Before dinner he had even changed back into the softer sweatpants that he had worn last night to sleep in. Star had even taken the time to put back on longer pants also.

His mind kept going over the bits of information that he had learned about Star and compared it to what he knew of Kozlov. He would say that the file HYDRA had given him either was incomplete or that a lot of information had been removed. It had not taken him long after leaving the guard house to decide that he was actually glad that Kozlov was dead and he wished that he had made him suffer instead of giving him a quick death. There had been missions where he was to torture a target before killing him and he wondered why Kozlov did not fit that profile.

Neither of them had turned a light on, making the fire the only light on the inside of the house. It was a very relaxing atmosphere in the room, even with the silence between them. It was not an uncomfortable one, but something that each of them seemed to have agreed on without actually discussing it. Outside, there was mostly a full moon in the sky, so he could see the tops of the trees swaying in the breeze. He still needed to head out to the shed and turn the generator off for the night.

Sitting up and slipping his shoes on, he saw Star turn her head to watch him.

"Where are you going?" she asked pulling her feet down so that she could sit up.

"To turn the generator off. There is no need for it to run during the night," he said lacing up the boots.

Star then stood up and headed over to the pantry, opening the door and feeling around for something. Heading back over to him, he saw her reach out with a flashlight for him to use.

"Thanks," he said taking it as he stood up. Star then headed over to the record player and turned the power off, throwing the house into complete silence.

"I'll stand on the porch so that you should be able to see me," Star said softly opening the door and taking a step outside. "Do you need me to keep talking so that you know I have not run off?"

"Do I need you to? Are you going to run off?" he asked closing the door behind him as he stepped into the chilly night air. Now that night had fallen, the woods had gotten even quieter with the sounds of crickets and bugs scattered about, leaving only the sound of the generator's hum to disturb the peace.

"No, but I should. Right?" she asked looking out toward the dark woods that were already beginning to gather a thin fog close to the ground.

"Yes," he answered truthfully.

"I'm too tired to run. I tried a couple of times to run. Each time when I was caught, the punishment was more painful than the last. Then one day, I just gave up trying to run. Besides, you've given me a couple of days. I want them and running would terminate your agreement."

Star was looking out over the area, everywhere except for where he was standing, watching her as she spoke. He could not argue with her logic. If she became a burden, she would have to be dealt with.

"When the local police try to identify the bodies here, if they cannot find a match, would they go internationally for an identity?" she asked before taking a seat on the cold concrete steps.

"Maybe. It depends on how much they want to close the case. The process is not very efficient since they usually use dental and fingerprints which can take a long time," he said slowly walking down the steps.

"Then could I ask a favor?" Star asked quietly.

"What?" he responded, curious now as to where this conversation was headed.

"As long as it does not hurt your mission, could you leave my name and information for the police to use to get in touch with my family? Something so that they know that I did not run away?"

He stared at her sitting in the cold, pale moonlight in wonder. He had expected her to beg for her life, like most of his other targets.

"I'm sure that's what they think happened. But I just want them to know that it was not their fault that I never came home."

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, curious for more of her story.

"I had gotten into an argument with my mom and dad when they told me that I could not go to a concert. It was in Atlanta, about a six hour drive from where I lived. So, after heading to my room, I grabbed a backpack with a change of clothes, snuck out the window and walked to where my friends were meeting to go to the concert. During the show, I got separated from them and afterwards, I headed outside to try and find where my friend had parked the car. That was when someone grabbed me from behind, pulling me into a van," she said, her voice getting softer as the story progressed. "I'm sure they thought that I ran away because I was angry at them. But I just want them to know that I _wanted_ to come home."

He hesitated before answering, trying to decide on the best course of action. Thinking over his mission, he could find no reason that allowing the authorities to know her name would compromise it.

"I'm sure something can be worked out," he said softly. Looking at her he could see a smile cross over her face at his response.

"Go deal with the generator…it's not exactly warm out here," Star said giving him a slight smile as her entire body shivered in the night.

Heading off to the small shed, he used the moonlight until he got to the shed door. Opening up the door, he turned on the flashlight and quickly shut down the machine. On his way out he grabbed his weapons bag from where he had left it earlier that morning. Shutting the door back, he turned the light off before silently crossing over the grass so that he could get a look at the stoop where he had left her. Star was not looking in the direction of the shed but out into the woods, away from it. She had stood up and moved so her back was to the corner of the door frame, as if trying to hide. The way she was frozen in place, almost frightened to the spot, staring at a point in the woods, put him a bit on alert.

Stealthily, he made his way so that he was standing right next to the stoop without her noticing his approach. She seemed to still be focusing her attention to the area of woods.

"What?" he asked in a hushed whisper, barely enough for her to hear. She gave a startled jump of her entire body at hearing his word, but she did not cry out.

"I heard something after the generator turned off. It sounded like a bunch of things moving quickly," she whispered.

"Head inside…I'll check it out," he said pulling a large k-bar knife from the bag in his hand.

"No, I'm sure it was nothing. Sir…please come inside," she said reaching for the door handle, but still not taking her eyes from the spot in the woods. Star was genuinely scared of something, but he had no idea what. "There could not be anything out there scarier than you…right?"

When he heard Star say that, it actually brought a smile to his lips. Slipping the knife back into the bag, he followed her inside the house, making sure that the door was locked behind him. Crossing the room, he then check the back door, using the key to lock it. Star headed into the bedroom and then he heard the sound of the sink running. After dinner, one of the things that she had also done was boil a kettle of water and then proceed to pour it over the two toothbrushes that she had found. She mumbled something about it being 'better than nothing' before putting them into the bathroom, informing him that hers was the yellow one and that his was the blue one.

Entering the dark bedroom, he saw that the single log he had thrown onto the fire earlier to keep the coals going had already been burned down to nothing. Not wanting to have to come back in during the night to add more, he took a couple of pieces of the thickest logs and added them to the fire. They should be enough to get through the night. If it was going to be colder, he would check it more often but the extra blankets that Star had insisted on retrieving would be plenty sufficient to keep them warm.

Star turned the light off and exited the bathroom, not noticing him standing off to the side, while beginning to spread an extra blanket over the bed as well as fluffing the extra pillows near the headboard. She had split the pile into two, leaving the other one out in the den on the chair for him to use. He saw that she had removed the braid from her hair and that it now flowed freely over her shoulders and down her back. Picking up the hairbrush from the small table next to the bed, Star pulled her hair over her shoulder and began to brush her long hair out for the first time in days. There was something about seeing such long, straight hair that captivated him for some reason.

He stood by the fireplace, watching as she struggled to remove the tangles that had formed. He could tell when she dealt with a large one because she would scrunch up her face in a wince, but she never made any outward noise. The room began to get lighter as the logs began to flare up, causing her to look over to where he had been standing, a bit in the shadows.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you were waiting," Star said putting the brush down onto the nightstand.

Bending over she picked up the bedroom's chain and held it out to him, almost as an offering. Slowly he took the few steps over so that he could take the presented item from her. Turning so that she was now sitting on the bed, she stuck her left leg out towards him. She was wearing a white pair of larger sized socks that she had scavenged. He pulled the keys from his pants pocket and locked it into place. At least the socks would help with the metal not irritating her wounds.

When he was done, he stepped back over closer to the fireplace as she picked up the hairbrush and continued with her hair. After a few minutes, she put the brush down and began to once again weave her hair into a tight braid. He was a bit amazed at how her fingers managed what he considered an intricate pattern, kind of like how she had been amazed at his knife skills.

"Sir, I'm not sure how comfortable the couch is, but if you want, we could share the bed," she said not looking in his direction as her fingers continued to work.

"I don't require much sleep," he answered.

"Are you going to stay awake and guard the house?" she asked slipping the round piece of rubber around the end of her braid.

"For a while, yes," he said moving closer to the door. "Then I'll sleep for a bit."

"Then...could you sit with me until I fall asleep?" Star asked seeming to stare at a very interesting spot on the floor in front of her. "I'm just a bit spooked from being outside. Bad memories and stories. I'll understand if you don't want to."

Whatever noise Star had heard outside must have brought on a fear that was so great, that even knowing that he was in the house able to….protect her?...wait, that wasn't right. That he was able to handle anything that happened. That was what…because Star _knew_ that he was not there to _protect_ her.

Star then slipped under the covers of the bed and began to adjust the positions of the pillows, leaving a few on his side for him to use. Lying on the bed, she turned her back to the spot she reserved for him and had an extra pillow cradled against her front, hugging it. He saw that her long braid had somehow ended up partially on the other side of the bed…his side of the bed. He stood in the spot for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do. Finally, moving to the bed, he sat down on the edge, twisting his body so that he could reach over and take her hair in his flesh hand. It was as soft as he had imagined.

Placing it closer to her back, he rearranged the remaining pillows so they were stacked behind his back against the headboard. Leaning back, he listened to the quiet house, picking out every sound: the bugs outside, the crackling of the fireplaces, Star's slowing steady breathing. When he had first thought of using the house as shelter for the mission, there was only one item on that list which he could never have taken into account. It was the one thing that made him curious. But every once in a while, Star would say something that just made him feel…off, as if something was not right.

It was after a long couple of minutes of silence during which he had also begun to nod off himself when he heard Star's soft voice.

"Do you know how to kill someone with as little pain as possible and no damage to their face?"

The serious nature of the question had him coming fully awake again. He hesitated to answer, but he did. "Yes."

"Could you do that for me? I don't want my parents to have to see a bullet wound to my forehead like the one Master Kozlov has."

He answered her with the same phrase as he had before, "I'm sure something can be worked out."

"Thanks, Scary."

Only a few moments later, he could hear her breathing change into that of someone fully asleep. The question had been on her mind while falling asleep, but would she even remember asking it in the morning?

He knew that he would.


	13. Day Three - The Ghost Might Be Out There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For this chapter, I like the Lana Del Ray version as opposed to the Sleeping Beauty movie one. All the songs listed were released before 1983, hence why they were chosen. 
> 
> Also, I have taken some of the behavior from Bucky from how he was written in some of the Ed Brubaker comics, where he was fully functioning on his own, not having to have a team with him on missions.

**Song: _Once Upon A Dream_ by Lana Del Ray***

* * *

Standing at the front door looking out into the dark woods, he saw that the fog was steadily getting thicker. After sitting on the bed long enough to make sure that Star was in a deep sleep, he had gotten up and begun a watch on the woods. He did not doubt that she had heard something, but since his recon into the woods showed no human movement, he figured that his assumption of it being an animal was correct. There had been no sign of light or movement through the growing fog. By morning, he figured that it would be impossible to see any distance into the woods.

After some time, making his way over to the fireplace in the den to add another log, he heard a strange sound coming from somewhere in the house. Turning around trying to catch the direction of the noise, he realized it was emanating from the bedroom. He had left the door open so that if he needed to get back in there to add to the fire that there would be little chance of disturbing Star. Now he was glad he had because if the door was closed he would not have heard the sounds.

Coming to a stop next to his side of the bed, it took him a moment to realize that the sound was that of Star's teeth chattering, as if she were freezing. Even though she had kicked the blankets mostly off while sleeping, the room was a decent temperature from the fire. But he had heard that same sound from other soldiers who could not handle low temperatures. It was then that he heard her faint voice barely above a whisper.

Star was repeating a single phrase over and over: " _Master...please let me out_."

Her entire body was also shaking as if she were outside during winter without anything on. She was still lying on her side, but he could tell that she was gripping herself trying to fight off the cold, her fingers digging hard into the flesh of her upper arms. He was not sure exactly what to do, but he sat back down onto the bed where he had been and moved so that his left side's hip and leg was resting against her back. He knew that his body ran warmer than most. With his right hand, he reached over and touched it to the side of her face, trying to see if her body was really freezing. It felt like it was a normal temperature, but she was still shivering.

As his hand rested on her face and his body heat started to spread to her, he felt the shaking in her body begin to lessen. A few minutes later, her teeth had stopped chattering and she seemed to have fallen back into a deep sleep. Star had to have been having a nightmare about being cold. But remembering the phrase she was uttering, he began to think that it had been caused by a memory. Staying next to her for a couple of more minutes, he was eventually able to slide off of the bed without disturbing her. There were still a couple of more hours until morning and he wanted to get a bit of sleep in before it arrived.

* * *

**Day Three**

* * *

Star was not sure when she finally realized that she was awake, but once she did, she really wanted to go back to sleep. Her body was a bit sore, as if her muscles were worn out from exercising for too long, and her upper arms were hurting. She remembered times when she had been forced to sleep in uncomfortable positions and it had put a strain on her body, and that was how she felt right now. Stiff and sore and tired. That was when she began to remember the dream she had been having. She had been back in the freezer.

No…she was not going to think about anything in her past anymore. Kozlov was dead and he could not do anything to her any more. No more torture…no more being forced to sleep with him…no more threats of the Ghost.

Trying to roll over, that was when Star realized that there was something pressed up against her back. At first she thought that Scary was lying in the bed with her, but as she turned her head, she saw that the remaining pillows on the bed had been laid out against her back. She began to remember that during her dream, it had changed from being her trapped in the cold to lying on her belly at the beach under the sun. The heat of the sun on her back had driven away the nightmare. There was no way that she had put the pillows there. It had to have been Scary.

The bedroom's door was open and she could hear the fireplace in the den crackling, so he must have put a log on not long ago. Slipping out the bed, she noticed that it looked like a log had been put on the bedroom fire recently also. Rubbing her tongue over her teeth, she made her was to the bathroom, grabbing the hairbrush on the way and shutting the door with enough sound so that Scary knew she was awake. Knowing him, he probably knew the moment her eyelids opened, but he had definitely heard the sound of her chain dragging across the floor to the bathroom.

Taking an extra few minutes to brush and re-braid her hair, when Star finally opened the door, she was looking directly at Scary, who was sitting on the spot of the bed that she had just vacated minutes before. She hesitated at seeing him sitting there, barely stopping the urge to drop to her knees. His hair was once again covering most of his face and it looked like he had not brushed it in days, which he probably had not since she had not seen him with the brush.

Reaching over to the hair brush she had just used, she picked it up and took the last two steps forward so that she was directly in front of him, offering the brush to him.

"What is that for?" he asked looking between her and the item.

"Well…most people brush their hair in the morning. Besides, don't you want to get that hair out of your face?" she asked.

"It helps to obscure my facial features to make it harder for photographic evidence to confirm my identity," he stated matter-of-factly. Star's head slowly nodded as she absorbed the phrase.

"That may be true… _but_ …I'm the only one here _and_ there are no cameras around," she pointed out still offering the brush. Then she thought of an odd question to ask him. "Do you _ever_ brush your hair?"

Now _that_ question got him to looking at her directly. A moment later he shook his head no.

Taking another step forward so that she was now standing a bit between his knees, she slowly lifted her free hand and the brush to use them as she began to push the hair back away from his face. Figuring that if he did not want her to do this, he would stop her, she started.

As she worked her fingers through his hair, she tried to be careful as she worked on the tangles that were in his hair. Luckily, since his hair was just above his jawline, they were pretty easy to get out. Once all of his hair was flowing freely, she took a step back into the bathroom, generously wet her hands and made her way back to Scary. Running her wet fingers a final time through his hair, she pushed the long strands back onto the top of his head, moving from his forehead to the back of his neck.

"There," Star said standing back a bit to admire her work.

Looking at Scary's face, she realized that this was the first time she had gotten a really good look at his features. Every other time, the hair had accomplished its task and obscured his face just enough. Now, she saw that he was indeed as handsome as she had seen, but now his face had lost that last piece of darkness that had originally frightened her. This was someone new sitting in front of her, someone that was taking her breath away. Something that had not happened in years.

Scary saw her staring at him and she knew that he was becoming uncomfortable with it so she adverted her eyes away from him. He had just admitted that people did not look at him, and now, here she was staring. Then she heard the sound again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key set. Reaching down, he gently took hold of her ankle with his gloved hand, lifting it up and placing it on his knee for support as he undid the lock. Without speaking, he released his grip on her leg and let her place it back on the ground before standing up and walking out of the room without a single word.

Star silently followed him out of the room, and then made her way over to the window by the front door. Outside the fog had completely engulfed the woods and was creeping around the edge of the clearing.

"Wow…there is sure a _Night of the Living Dead_ creepy mood going on out there," Star said, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were getting cold from looking at the fog.

"A what?" he asked, walking from across the room to stand next to her and staring out the window as if she had seen something.

"It's an old movie, with zombies."

Scary stood there looking out over the yard into the fog.

"What is a zombie?" he asked not taking his eyes from the fog.

Star then looked up at him, with disbelief on her face.

"A zombie...a dead person who walks around trying to find a live person so that it can eat their flesh and brains," she said trying to use a comically spooky voice. "Totally different than from the movie _White Zombie_ where a guy with the name Murder uses voodoo to control people to do stuff against their will."

With that phrase, she watched as Scary took a couple of steps back from the window, eyes cast down to the right and his brows furrowing roughly. His breathing had become a bit rough, but after a few moments as he steadied himself while holding onto the back of the chair, he finally seemed to come back to his normal self.

"Are you ok?" she asked, stepping away from where she had been watching him, holding her own breath, waiting to see if something bad was about to happen.

"Yes, just a bit of a headache," he said, not elaborating any more.

"How about we get something to eat?" Star asked, keeping a few feet away, to give him some space. Scary just nodded his head in agreement.

"I have already turned the generator on," he said, taking a couple of calming breaths. She took one final look outside at the fog surrounding them. Potentially hiding anything...anyone...in the woods.

Last night, being alone in the dark on the front steps, the stories of the Ghost that Kozlov liked to tell her came flooding back when she had heard the noise. If Kozlov had him coming out here for some reason, and arrived to find him dead, she could not imagine what he would do as revenge. Her entire body shivered as she flexed her hands, glancing at her scarred palms, just thinking about it. She had heard enough stories to remain terrified. Scary may have the ability to fight off an attacker long enough to escape, but maybe not the Ghost. But there was no way that she ever could. Scary could easily leave her as bait while he escaped.

Making her way to the kitchen, she mentally went over the list of breakfast meals that she had constructed yesterday while organizing the fridge. Beginning to pull a bunch of fresh vegetables from the fridge, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Scary sat down in the chair, pulling it a bit nearer to the fireplace as she worked. He had not indicated that he wanted the den's cuff on her, so she figured it was because he was right there with her. If he went out again, like yesterday, he would put it on then, she guessed.

Chopping the vegetables so that she could make them omelets, she looked over at Scary sitting silently while staring at the roaring fire. She was not sure why, but she had the feeling that talking about the zombies had for some reason…upset…disturbed…him. She had noticed a couple of times when they had spoken that the topic seemed foreign to him but she did not know why. Was it because he was Russian? Had the movie never been shown here? What about the other things? She could understand not having seen an old movie, but not brushing his hair or ever listening to the radio? Those were things that everyone normally did.

Not sure if he really could tell that she was looking at him or if it was a guess, Scary turned his head to look at her.

"What?" he asked a bit suspiciously. Thinking quickly she gave an answer.

"Just trying to decide on four or six," she said, going back to chopping, covering up her thoughts with a different topic. If she irritated him too much with questions, he may decide to kill her and get it over with, cooking for him be damned.

"Four or six what?" he asked.

"How many eggs to use in your omelet."

"Six," he answered. "Always err on the side of more food."

With that startling comical statement, Star let out the first real laugh that she had had in a very long time. That was the first time he had said anything like that. Maybe he _was_ normal in there after all. Then, remembering how much he liked it yesterday, she started a pot of coffee, filling it all the way up.

Scary then got up and walked over so that he could lean on the side of the counter, near her but over enough so that he was out of the way. After watching her dice the vegetables for a long time, she saw him give his head a gentle nod in approval at her work.

"How do you know how to cook?" he asked.

"Since I was old enough to start school, during the summer, my parents would send me to stay with my grandparents at their farm since I was the youngest. Since there were three of us kids, mom said that it made it easier on her. My brother and sister used to go until I got old enough to. Grannie had me helping to cook the meals since I was 5. I started by picking and washing the vegetables. I learned the easy stuff first: pasta, soups, mashed potatoes. As I got older, she taught me some of her recipes, like the gravy beef tips with rice we had last night."

Scary silently watched as she continued to move about the kitchen, warming the frying pan, scrambling the eggs, then tossing everything together. She pulled out a handful of slices of bread and used the old toaster that she had found in the back of a cabinet.

As she began to load their plates with food, Scary waited until she was done before carrying them over and setting them at their spots at the table. She pulled the silverware out of the dish drain, handed them to him and he put them on the table. This was the first time that he had any interaction with the cooking. Pouring herself a glass of orange juice and him a full cup of coffee, she made her way to the table and sat down. Scary was already sitting and waiting for her before beginning to eat. Neither of them spoke until about half way through the meal.

"I investigated the woods this morning, once the sun was mostly up to see if I could spot any signs of what could have made the sound you heard last night," Scary said, taking another large bite of his omelet.

"Was there any sign of something being the woods? Anything human?" Star hesitantly asked as she started to eat, but she knew he could hear the worry in her voice.

"I spotted the tracks of a small herd of deer moving through the area where you had been looking. That was what you heard," he said, before drinking down half of his coffee. She let out a audible sigh of relief. "What did you think I would find? Are you worried about someone coming here?"

"Kozlov used to tell…no wait," she said shaking her head a bit, trying to get the right word, "He used to _threaten_ me, and even some of his men, with the promise of sending out a specially trained assassin that he had control of. When any of his men didn't fall into line, he would threaten them with the Ghost. Other times, he would...tell stories of what he would let the Ghost do to me if I did not obey."

Scary listened as she spoke, but now she realized that behind the cup he was drinking out, there was a slight smile on his face. The topic of conversation was making her stomach churn, making her almost force another bite down her throat.

"Did he ever call this Ghost by any other name?" he asked, not seeming troubled by her story...if anything he seemed amused.

"Only once, when he was very drunk, almost like he was worried about speaking his name out loud. The Winter Soldier," she said barely above a whisper, almost believing that saying the name would make him appear. The strange sound happened, again. But when she said that name out loud, Scary really did put a wide smile on his face, _and_ he relaxed a lot more than he had been. He really did look handsome with his hair pushed back from his face when he smiled.

"Kozlov was using information and stories that he had heard to frighten you. He never had control over, or access to, the Winter Soldier. If anything, he should have listened to his _own_ stories before he betrayed HYDRA," he said, calmly taking another drink of his coffee.

"So...then he will not come seeking revenge for killing Kozlov?" she asked, wondering how he could be so calm about the Ghost. Maybe he had never heard any of the stories. Some of the things that he had threatened to have the Ghost do to her made her wish for death. Then there had been the things he had shown her…done to her.

"No," he said, finishing off the coffee in front of him, rising and pouring himself another cup before continuing, "Because he was sent to kill Kozlov."

"But _you_ killed Kozlov," she said, trying to comprehend what Scary was getting at.

Watching her, Scary just stared at her as if waiting for something to register in her mind. Then, a moment later, it did. Staring back at him, her eyes went wide as the short sentence left her lips.

"You are the Winter Soldier."


	14. Star Breaks The Agreement

**Song: _Race With The Devil_ by Judas Priest**

* * *

He watched as Star's eyes got wider than he had ever seen them.

"You are the Winter Soldier."

Saluting her with his cup, he then brought it to his lips as he watched her reaction to his silent admission. It was not what he had thought it would be.

Still sitting at the table, he saw that Star's breathing became increasingly shallow as she turned her head to face away from him. After only a few moments, she began to rise from the chair and he saw that she was swaying slightly on her feet as she walked away from his direction, as if she were dizzy, but she then began to move in a line towards the front door while mumbling to herself something that was spoken too low for him to hear clearly.

She was acting more scared of hearing his _name_ than having been in the same house _with him_ for the previous day? How was that possible?

Putting his cup down onto the counter, he began to move around it towards where Star was now reaching for the handle of the front door. He had left it unlocked after turning on the generator this morning, figuring he did not need to lock it back since he would be inside with Star.

Not truly understanding what he was now watching, he could only stare as Star opened the door and then suddenly bolted from the house. The fact that she did it was startling to him as she had never exhibited this type of behavior before.

Star's foot barely touched the concrete landing at the door before she flung her body through the air, gliding over all of the other steps without touching them. Impacting the ground hard, he watched as she planted her hands onto the grass as her knees made contact and she slid a foot forward on the slick damp surface.

An instant later, Star stood and began to run straight ahead, directly into the fog encased woods.

"Star!?" he called out reaching the door, disbelieving what he had witnessed, planting his hands on the door frame to stop himself from chasing after her. She could hear the sound of her running through the fog, wondering if she would crash painfully into a tree.

He had removed his boots after turning the generator on, dropping them by the door, but knowing the conditions of the grounds surrounding the house, he took a moment to slip them on, wrapping the laces around his legs before knotting them off so he could move in them.

Running through the front door in the same direction that Star had gone, he began the task of hunting her down.

Listening to the quiet woods, he could hear the sound of her crashing through the underbrush a decent distance ahead of him. She did not seem to be trying to hide or avoid him by heading into a new direction. The fog was so thick that he could not run at full speed or he would be moving too fast to dodge any trees in the path she was creating.

He was not exactly sure how she was able to avoid the numerous trunks with her wild sprint. He could tell that she was running without trying to take one of the trails that surrounded the property, instead moving in a straight line through the fall underbrush. Broken tree limbs at her chest height were clearly visible as he passed them, allowing him to use them as a trail.

After only a couple of minutes of trying to carefully catch up to her, he could more clearly hear the sounds of Star, her heavy breathing, her mumbling, her crashing into the plants. He could hear that she was right in front of him now, but the fog only seemed to have gotten thicker and he still could not see her. If she was not careful, eventually she would leave the woods, running directly into the middle of the paved country road that led to the property.

Somehow, he did not see her stopping to be cautious of any moving cars.

Thinking of that scenario, he called out with a demanding tone to his voice, "Star!", hoping this time to get her attention so that she would stop running. It must have worked because the next thing he heard was the sound of two objects making contact. The woods became empty of the sounds of Star's footsteps as she finally stopped.

Slowing down enough so that he would not run into her, he listened to the sound of her gasping for air mixed with crying.

After only a few more feet through the fog, he spotted Star crumbled onto the ground, her back to him while resting on her knees. Her right shoulder was leaning up against a tree that she had her arm wrapped around for support. Her breathing was still erratic, but now as he drew closer he heard the beginning sounds of her retching, her stomach evacuating the breakfast that she had just eaten.

Standing back a few feet, he waited until she was done and turned to sit on the ground, putting her back to the tree, leaning against it for support. Her legs lay straight out in front, her arms lying limp at her sides, he saw that her body had physically given up. The tears that were now streaming down her face told more of the story. She was crying even more than the first time he had seen her, and _then_ she had been secured in the kennel.

What had frightened her so, just by hearing a name?

Coming a bit closer so that he could crouch down onto his ankles, he silently waited for her to calm down before deciding what to do next. This was partially the reaction that he had been expecting since he first met her, the same one that all of his targets gave him. Pure fear, terror, and panic. But it was not the same...there was something more to it.

Looking over her body, he saw that during her run the pants that she had been wearing had been torn in a couple of places, including where the knees were from the initial fall she had taken. Her arms, which were mostly bare from the t-shirt had small scrapes across them.

Also, and more important, he saw that the socks that had been on her feet were now gone, lost during the wild run. There were visible small blood red marks coming from her bare feet bottoms where she had scratched and cut them on the harsh ground. The entire area was covered in broken limbs, perfect for splinters, as well as thorn bushes which he knew that he had passed as he trailed Star.

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper after a couple of minutes. He was not in any hurry so he had waited patiently until she seemed to have returned a bit more back to normal. Her eyes were still closed, with her head slung off to the side, facing away from him. "Please make it quick."

"What?" he asked, curious as to what she was talking about.

"Aren't you going to kill me now?" Star asked, turning back to finally look at him. "I broke your agreement."

He stared down at her sitting there…expecting to die. Even if he had brought a weapon with him, he would not have used it on her at this time. Star did not deserve the pain his arm could bring, and he had already decided to try and grant her sleepy request. He knew that eventually he would have to complete his mission...but not right now.

Not like this.

"Come on, let's get back to the house," he said, getting down on one knee so that he could reach over and lift her up so that he could carry her back to the house. Walking barefoot would either be too painful for her once the adrenaline wore off or even aggravate what she had possibly already done to the soles of her feet.

He watched as she visibly flinched at his movement towards her, as if expecting to be struck. Her entire body stiffened up and her eyes ground closed. She was still afraid of him...and maybe being punished by him for her action.

Putting his left arm behind her back, he then rested her knees over his right arm before standing up. As he lifted her off of the ground, Star balled her hands into fists before crossing her arms, burying them into her armpits, as if trying to make herself even smaller than she already was.

Walking back in the direction of the house, when he came across one of the many paths, he diverted onto it to make the trek a bit easier. He had explored the trails numerous times so he was not worried about finding their way back, even with the air still heavy with the morning fog. Star had gotten pretty far away from the house during her mad dash. But it would only take him a couple of minutes to get them back safely.

The entire time they were traveling, neither of them spoke.

As the tree line fell away into the fog-free clearing of the front of the house, Star moved her head for the first time since he had picked her up. Until then, she had rested it against his metal shoulder, without complaint for the unyielding surface. But then, in the bizarre emotional state she was in, he did not expect her to complain about anything.

She had never even seen his arm during their short time together. He had always made sure to wear long sleeves and gloves. She had also never questioned the re-calibration sound which had happened a few times.

When he had run out of the house after her, he saw that the door did not close behind him, being left wide open. He had not even thought of it. At that moment, he realized that when he had started to run after her that he had been worried that Star would somehow hurt herself more than he had been worried about the mission. He had not been worried that he would lose her in the woods.

He knew that she could never hide from him with his abilities to track someone. But when he thought of her getting hurt, it had displeased him.

Why? She was a target...right?

Using his foot to close the door behind them, he walked her over to the chair that was still sitting in front of the fireplace, sitting her down upon it. Any heat that had built up in the house from the fires that had been going was now gone, escaping long ago through the open door. Taking another log off of the pile, he put it onto the fire before sitting down on the hearth right in front of Star.

She still had her arms tightly folded across her chest, her hands hidden from him. Glancing across the small space to where she sat, he took a moment to gather his thoughts as to the proper course of actions that needed to be done.

"Do not move from that spot," he said firmly to her, receiving only a slight nod of her head as acknowledgement.

Standing up, he first headed to the front door and used the key to lock it. He had not thought much about the fact that it was a keyed deadbolt on the inside instead of just a handle to turn. Now, he saw that Kozlov had used it as another way to control anyone he had brought here. Star would have been able to turn the handle to get out just as easily if it had been that kind.

Walking into the bathroom, he opened the medicine cabinet and searched the small cabinet under the sink for the necessary items. Gathering them up, he carried the supplies back to where Star was still sitting, her arms still tucked in close to her body as if she were trying to hide them. Putting the items on the hearth, he sat back down in the same spot.

Reaching out, he took her right ankle in his hand and lifted it so that he could get a better look at the bottom of her foot. He had enough medical training so that he could easily care for any damage that his own body received, including sewing up a bullet hole. Caring for the cuts on her feet should not prove to be any problem.

When he lifted her right foot towards him so that the fire illuminated it better, he was stunned by what he realized he was looking at.

There were a number of new superficial cuts all along the soles of her feet from debris on the ground, but what he did not expect to find were that her soles were entirely covered with healed scars. There was no mistaking the fact that her feet had been lashed brutally at some point.

As they had healed, a thick layer of scarring skin had formed. Noticing something was a bit off, he gently examine the smaller toes on her foot. They did not seem to lay straight, and instead they were a bit twisted to the side. At some point, the three smaller toes on her right foot had been broken and not realigned before they healed.

"Tell me what happened to your feet," he asked, picking up her left foot to inspect it. The sole was also scarred over, but her toes on that foot did not seem to have been broken.

"It was a punishment. For moving without being giving permission to do so," Star said, probably hoping that explanation would be enough, but giving a quick glance at him before dropping her eyes back down, she saw him staring and waiting for the _full_ story.

"Kozlov had ordered me to stand next to his desk on only my right foot, with my left held up. I was able to hold the position for over an hour before finally losing my balance and having to place my left foot onto the ground to stop myself from falling down. Kozlov then proceeded to have me bound to a pole, kneeling on a chair while my legs were tied behind me to the chair's seat. With my feet dangling in the air, he had used a thin wooden stick to repeatedly strike the soles of my feet. His aim was not the best and on a couple of swings, he hit only my toes. I figured that they were broken. The pain and bruising lasted the next couple of weeks. If I move them too much, they still hurt."

With the horrific account now being shared, he found that his teeth were grinding firmly together as he pictured the scene, making him wish for his bite guard. With a low growl at wanting to hurt Kozlov once again, he took the wet wash cloth in his hand and began to gently wipe away the dirt that was covering the bottoms of her feet.

Once he was satisfied that they were clean, he doused a small handful of cotton wad with alcohol. Knowing that it was going to sting, he began to sterilize the cuts. Star never even flinched at the stinging that he knew had to be there. Probably due to the heavy scarring, her feet had minimal damage to them. Most of the cuts were very minor and she hardly had any scratches.

Lifting the bottom of her pants up until he was able to see her knees, he found them both covered in a friction burn. It did not seem that they were bad and would be healed in no time. Rolling the sweatpants back down, he lifted her legs off of where they had been resting across his legs so that they were back on the ground.

"Show me your hands," he told her as she continued to sit there with them hidden away. She had landed on the ground hard after her initial jump and he figured that she must have hurt them badly if she was protecting them. Star just began to give her head a continuous shake, her breathing starting to become quick again, her face turning red as if she wanted to cry. "Star…give me your hands!"

With the slight raising of his voice, the commanding tone promptly made her flinch and she pulled them from their hiding place. Star held them out far enough so that he was able to take them into his. Her head ducked down as her shoulders hunched over, as if she were expecting a strike. He saw that she held them with the backs of her hands up, so taking them into his hands, he turned them over to inspect the palms for injuries.

Again, he was bothered with what he saw. Star did have some scrapes from when she fell, but getting a good, close look at her palms, he now saw that they also had scars on them.

The tips of all of her fingers had the markings of having been excessively injured. Carefully inspecting them, he saw that Star no longer had any viable fingerprint patterns. He knew that this would make identifying her body much harder. This had to be one of the reasons she had asked about leaving her personal information for the police so that they could contact her parents.

What disturbed him were the thick scar lines that were running along the lengths of all of her fingers, the kind made with either a very sharp, thin knife, or maybe even a scalpel. They went from her fingertips all the way to her palms. There, in the center of her palm, he saw that Kozlov's initials, YK, had been carved permanently into her skin. Star had been tortured as much as he ever had done to someone he had been trying to extract information from, maybe even more. And she was still alive afterwards.

"Is this what you did not want me to see?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs across the palms of her hands.

"No," Star answered quietly, still withdrawn into herself. "I don't want you to cut off my fingers."

His head dropped slightly to the side as tried to understand the strange sentence she had just said.

"Why would I cut off your fingers?"

"Master…he used to tell me that the favorite pastime of the Winter Soldier...you...was cutting people's fingers off, one knuckle at a time. That you liked to slice through the skin all the way to the bone, so that you could pop out each knuckle. One night...he was drunk...and decided to try and show me."

Taking a deep breath, he wanted to march outside of this house and go put an entire magazine into Kozlov's dead body. He knew that it would not accomplish anything, but it might make _him_ feel better. No wonder this poor girl had suddenly run from the house in a mad panic just from a name. How dare Kozlov do such horrors in _his_ name...

"That is _not_ my favorite pastime and I am _not_ going to do it to you! I have _never_ done that actually! I'm not sure what Kozlov has told you about me, but the only people that I torture are the ones who are my mission and _only_ if they have information that I need!"

Star finally tilted her head up so that she could gaze at his face. The hair that she had slicked back earlier was now once again falling across his face from the run through the woods. Releasing her hands, he moved his across his head, trying to push the hair back to where she had it earlier.

He did not know why, but he did not want Star scared of him like his other targets, and even other soldiers, were. He did not want her believing that he would do such a thing to someone like her. Yesterday she had talked with him, something the soldiers at the base never did. He would never admit it to her but he had even been amused when he had caught her dancing.

He did not want her afraid of him, he realized.

"Kozlov did _not_ have access to my previous missions. He had no idea what I was capable of. The only things he had were rumors that had probably spread over time. Not to mention the stuff that he undoubtedly made up to help to scare those beneath him, such as yourself. Judging by your fear at just _hearing_ my name, it seems to have worked," he said before leaning back against the side of the fireplace, giving her time to take in what he had just said. "Star, I'm _not_ going to torture you."

After a few minutes of silence between them, Star finally seemed to relax enough to adjust herself in the chair to get a bit more comfortable. She then gave a slight nod of understanding with her head.

"All of your injuries are superficial. Why don't you go to the bathroom, take some time and get cleaned up, and change into something else that is not covered in dirt and holes?"

Star looked down at her clothing and seemed for the first time to realize that they had been ruined. Getting up from the chair she left him sitting next to the fire as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scary may not remember his past and taking care of Steve, but the instinct of wanting to help someone hurt seems to be partially there...


	15. Who Has The Best Scars?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song coincidence – After listening to this song on repeat for over two hours while writing, I go to leave, turn the car on, and this song is playing.
> 
> Movie coincidence: – Two days after finishing this chapter, TCM played Horror Express, doing a Christopher Lee marathon.

**Song: _Sympathy for the Devil_ by The Rolling Stones**

* * *

It was probably close to an hour before Star emerged from the bathroom. He was not sure what she had been doing in there, but at one point, he crept up to the door and held his ear to it. Past the sound of water in the tub running, he could hear something that sounded like scrubbing. He listened carefully to her movements, ready to back away from the door if he even _thought_ she was about to open it. In her current state, it would probably give her a heart attack if she found him standing there...snooping, for the lack of a better term.

A little while after that, he heard the distinct sound of the tub being filled with water, a different sound than before. When the sound of Star getting in the water and making a hissing sound as the water irritated the scrapes on her body, he moved away from the door. He threw another log on the bedroom's fire before leaving the room, trying to get the temperature in the house back to the comfortable level it had been at.

Heading back to the den, he moved the chair over and turned it slightly so that he could easily see into the bedroom all the way to the bathroom door. For some reason, he wanted her to know exactly where he was when she reappeared. Maybe it was because he spent most of his time hiding. He liked the fact that she actually looked at him. Well…some of the time she did.

When the bathroom door finally opened, Star looked out to where he was sitting. She had wrapped a towel around her body and there was another one twisted around her head. He could see that her body did not seem as tense as it had before she went into the room. Star made eye contact with him and he saw the corners of her lips turn slightly upright, not a full smile but it was more than he had expected. She walked over towards the dresser, out of view, and he heard her begin to pull out articles of clothes from the drawers on her side. As she gathered the items, he turned away from the door slightly to give her some privacy. He didn't want her thinking that he was not allowing her some privacy.

Star came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in a long sleeve shirt, more sweatpants and socks, with the towel still atop her head. There was a length of hair coming out of the bottom due to it being so long. He noticed that there were a couple of little water drops trailing behind her as she walked.

Star went over to the table and sat back at her spot before picking up a piece of cold, dry toast off of the pile she had made earlier. Sitting quietly, he watched out of the corner of his eye as she finished off the plate. Drinking the last of the orange juice that she had poured earlier, she just sat in the chair, quiet and not moving.

Getting up, he walked over to the counter, picking up the mug he had been drinking out of earlier. Dumping the cold coffee into the sink, he poured himself another hot cup, from the percolator still performing its job. Taking a couple of sips, he topped off the cup before heading back over to the chair. Star did not even pay attention to his movements, he noted, her head was down as well as her eyes.

After they had sat in the uncomfortable silence for some time, he put another log on the fire before heading to the bedroom to check the fire in there. For the most part the house had regained the heat it had lost earlier. But he felt like he needed to do something...and anything would be better than the eerie quite of the house right now.

Heading over to the back door, he unlocked the deadbolt and walked outside, leaving the door slightly cracked open. Making is way over to the wood pile, he grabbed an armful of logs wondering what Star would do. Pushing the door open with his foot, he saw that Star had not moved at all. Closing the door, he began to unload the wood next to the fireplace. She was not going to say anything, so he decided that he needed to.

"How are your feet doing?" he asked, sitting back down in the chair, picking his cup up off of the hearth.

"They don't really hurt," she answered, while putting a creepy smile on her down-turned face. "I've had worse."

"I know," he replied, pleased that she was trying to put some humor into the situation. Maybe that was what it would take to get them back to the way they had been earlier. "I think the scars helped to protect them a bit. They could have been much worse."

"Do you have any scars?" she then asked hesitantly, still not looking at him but at least trying to keep the conversation going.

"You could say that," he answered, taking a deep breath as he flexed his left arm, the noise of the plates adjusting echoing through the room.

During the time he had been here, he knew that she had to have heard the sound of it adjusting before but she never seemed to have taken notice or questioned him about it. Of course, he had also made sure to always keep it covered and out of sight, as to not frighten her.

"Would you show me? I would say _if you show me yours, I'll show you mine_ , but I think we are a _bit_ past that," Star said, this time with a bit more of a smile touching her lips. He turned his head, curious as to whether she was serious or not. He saw her cast her eyes down as he moved, still hesitant about him.

"Really?"

"Why not? Unless you really like sitting in uncomfortable silence? We can have our own version of the scene from _Jaws_ ," Star replied with another reference that he did not understand.

When she saw him turn his head slightly to the side, again not understanding her comment, she gave a slight exasperated sigh.

"Now you _have_ to be trying to _psych_ me out," Star commented, looking at him once again, seeming a bit more comfortable, even with the unusual topic she had picked. "No movies, no music. What do you do for fun?"

Considering his answer for a moment, "I train. I learn new fighting techniques, different languages, new weapons."

"But that's work...not fun," Star said, finally standing up from the table.

Walking over to the couch, she picked up one of the blankets he had used for cover last night. Wrapping it around herself, she inched her way a bit closer to the fireplace before plopping herself down onto the floor. She was now only a few feet away, so their fingers, with outstretched arms, would have been able to touch, so he hoped that meant she was getting over her fear of him. "So, what do you do for _fun_?"

"If those do not count, then I do not do anything for fun," he said, drinking more of his coffee.

He had seen other soldiers at the base sitting around talking, reading books or magazines. He had even passed by a door where guards were watching something on a small electronic box, a television he remembered the name, but he had been heading to the technicians for routine maintenance on his arm. Besides, his Handler had forbidden him from entering certain rooms, and he had always complied with his Handler's commands.

"So you train to learn how to kill people and then you go out and kill people. That's it?" Star asked, leaning over to rest her body against the brick hearth. He found it entertaining that she was now being very blunt with her statements towards him.

"Yes," he said, giving her a very keen look.

"Then you have to be the most _boring_ assassin I know," she informed him, looking over at the fire, shaking her head in disgust as she did so.

"Oh...and just how many assassins do you know?" he asked a bit curious, but with a playful tone in his voice.

"Only one, so then you win by default. But I don't think that you can be proud of that," Star said, with a smile now on her face, but not looking at him directly.

Opening his mouth to say something, he let the idea drop from his mind. He was not proud that he killed people, but his training had taught him that he should be proud of the work that he was doing for HYDRA. He was helping them to make a better world. If he was not killing for them, what use would he be? He had met, and even killed, spies before, so he knew that he could not do that. His training had involved learning how to blend in with crowds to be inconspicuous so that he could reach a target but that was not the same. Also, the training had taught him how to determine the best way to take out a target. He may not be proud that he killed people, but he was proud of the fact that he had the ability to learn how to do these things. He actually enjoyed learning the different languages.

"So, how many scars do you have?" Star asked, finally turning to look over at him.

Putting his cup down, he leaned back in the chair, trying to decide how far to take this conversation. Then he began to realize that he might be able to use this to help make Star not as afraid of him as she had been.

"First, did Kozlov ever tell you of anything _different_ about the Winter Soldier, something that no one else has?"

Star's eyes began to move back and forth, trying to remember all of the possible horrible little details she had been threatened with. But eventually, she just shook her head no as an answer.

"Then I may have a way to _prove_ to you that probably _most of everything_ Kozlov told you or threatened you with was a lie. There is something that only my targets usually get to see," he said, lifting his left arm onto the chair's armrest, flexing his fingers into a fist to make his arm calibrate. "If he _really_ knew about me, then he _would have_ told you about this."

"Does this have something to do with where that noise comes from?" Star asked, focusing in on his arm. He knew that it looked just like his flesh arm covered.

"Yes," he said. "I'm curious as to why, if you heard the noise, why you haven't asked about it before now?"

"My training included learning to _not_ ask questions. If Kozlov wanted me to know something, he would tell me."

Nodding in understanding, he took a deep breath and hoped that this idea of his did not backfire. Grabbing the glove, he slowly pulled it off to reveal his metal hand. Once it was exposed, he lifted it up so that Star could get a better look at it. He saw the reflection of the fire gleaming off of it.

"You're wearing armor? Like a knight?" Star asked, not truly understanding what she was seeing.

"No, not like a knight," he said, slightly amused at her description, taking off his other glove.

Since so far she did not seemed frightened by his hand, he decided to just get it over with. Scooting forward in the chair a bit, he lifted the hem of his long sleeve shirt and pulled it off over his head, placing it down on the hearth. Looking back over toward her, he now saw that her mouth was slightly agape as she stared at his fully exposed left arm.

"It's real?" she said, leaning slightly forward to get a better look. "Well…I don't mean real, but you've been using it just like a real arm."

He held his arm out towards her, exposing the top of his hand so that she could see the small panels better. He wiggled his fingers just like he could do with his other hand.

"Far out," Star said with a curious glint in her eyes, mindlessly reaching up to try and touch his finger. She quickly pulled her hand back when she realized what she was doing.

"It's fine if you want to touch it. You can't hurt it," he said, leaning a bit more toward her.

Every soldier that had seen his arm would always divert their eyes as if they were not curious, some almost with disgust on their faces. The technicians would treat his arms as what it was, a machine, not really caring about how it was a part of him. Having Star interested and not scared of it was a nice change of pace.

Star's first touched the tip of her index finger to his, giving it a gentle poke, as if making sure it was really there. Her finger then began to slide up the back of his index finger until she was at the back of his hand, where she began to make small circles over it. Turning his hand over, he let her get a look at his palm. Stat then did something that he could not remember anybody having done before: she willingly took his hand between both of hers, holding it.

As she now began to crawl on her knees closer to him, to shorten the distance between them, Star's eyes began to examine the panels up close. Her eyes traveled up his arm, finally coming to rest on the red star embossed on his arm. After only a moment, they continued up to where the metal finally made contact with his flesh.

"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly.

"No," he said, before adding, "Not anymore."

Star then partially released his hand so that she could reach up and touch the raised scar tissue at the connection. He was a bit pleased to find that he enjoyed her soft touch. The doctors were not gentle with him, preferring to get the job done no matter at what cost. He was a weapon, a tool, so they worked when they had to, doing what needed to be done, and he would have to sit there and let them, no matter how much it hurt.

"Is it stronger than a normal arm?" she asked while running her hand back down over the star.

"Yes, much stronger," he said, happy that she was once again becoming less frightened of him.

"No, Kozlov never even mentioned anything about a metal arm," she told him, releasing his hand from her small delicate one and moving back from him so that she was once again sitting on the floor instead of kneeling up to examine him. The blanket had fallen away as she had moved closer so now she was readjusting it back around her shoulders. The tenseness in her body seemed to finally be gone.

"I'm sorry that I ran like that. But everything that I had been told for the past couple of years, all the stories Kozlov used to tell me, they suddenly came back. It scared me. Even the stuff that I'd already had done to me would have been nothing compared to what I thought you were going to do to me."

He could only give her a simple nod of understanding. Anything more and it may sound like he was condoning her actions. Picking the shirt back up, he slid it over his head before picking up his cup of coffee. Now that she knew, he really did not have a reason to hide his hands inside of the gloves all the time. Finishing up the last of the coffee, he made his way over to the pot to get another cup.

"You know, you can put sugar and milk in coffee," Star offered as a suggestion.

"Really?" he responded, looking down at the once again empty cup. He had been drinking it this way because that was how she had given it to him yesterday morning.

"Milk is in the fridge and sugar is in the puke green canister next to the percolator, if you want to try them," Star said.

"Puke green? No thanks. I think I like it like this," he said, returning to his chair with another full cup.

For the next few minutes, they sat there back in the comfortable silence like they had last night before Star stood up. Pulling the towel from her head, she began to run it through the long strands of wet hair, getting most of the water out. He watched as she began to head to the bedroom before deciding to break the silence while walking.

"You do realize that, technically, you only have the one scar. I have more...so therefore, I win," she informed him, as she passed through the bedroom door, with complete seriousness in her voice.

It took him a moment to realize that he had been staring where she had disappeared with his mouth wide open after listening to her comment.

* * *

Star made it all the way to the bathroom before she heard the sound of a stifled laugh coming from the den.

Draping the towel over the shower curtain rod, she picked up the hairbrush and put the pony tail holder around her wrist before heading back out to where Scary was. Walking over to the hearth, she sat down on it hoping that the heat from it would help to dry out her hair. Scary looked like he was back to his serious self, but there was no mistaking the sound that she knew emanated from him.

"I heard that," she said, gathering her hair together.

"Heard what?" Scary said taking a drink, trying to play innocent.

As she began the process of dealing with her long hair, she could feel Scary's eyes on her. But every time that she was able to quickly glance at him, he would seem to be focused on the fire or at a spot on the wall. She was never quite able to catch him looking at her, but there was no mistaking the feeling that she was having. Even though Kozlov wanted her hair to stay long, he did not want to give her the time to properly deal with it. He didn't care if she just braided it without brushing it first as long as he was happy.

Splitting her hair into sections, she began to brush out the strands. It would probably have been easier to deal with if her hair was thin, but unfortunately she had taken after her father's side of the family and had a full head of thick hair. Even without the extra weight from the length, it was also boringly straight and brown. Not a curl or wave in sight. Her friend Kelly had once tried to put curlers in it but it fell flat, as if laughing at their attempt.

Star began to get that feeling on the back of her neck again that someone was watching her. There was only one person that it could be.

"What?" she asked, turning quickly to look Scary right in the eyes. She had actually caught him looking that time.

"Could I touch your hair?" he very honestly asked.

She was a bit shocked at his request thinking that he had to have touched someone's hair before. Hers was not that special, and probably a bit outdated with its style by now. Big and puffy with some feathering around the face was all the rage when she had been taken. By now...she had no idea what a popular hair style was. Scary had let her touch his amazing arm, and she had no reason to deny his request.

"Sure," she replied, moving over onto the hearth so that she was close enough to where he was sitting in the chair that their knees were barely touching. Scary reached out with is right hand, letting a section of the long hair slide through his fingers as he moved his hand. He seemed a bit fascinated by it.

"It's a bit longer than I used to keep it," she said, not going into detail that it was Kozlov who kept it this way. Lifting his hand again he repeated the gentle maneuver with another section. "You've never touched someone's hair before? A girlfriend's, maybe?"

"I've only had contact with a target's hair if I had to move the body," he said frankly, pulling a handful closer to his eyes to get a detailed look at it. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Why not?" she asked, watching as he seemed to be trying to focus in on a single strand. How could he be that fascinated with it?

"There are no females at the base."

"So then I guess the feminist movement hasn't made it here yet. Just wait until all the Russian women begin to burn their bras," she said, brushing a section on the opposite side of where he was still touching.

"Why would you do that? It would hurt," he asked, dropping the hair finally and leaning back to get comfortable in the chair once again.

"You don't _wear_ the bra when you _burn_ it," she said exasperatingly.

"There are women in the military, just not at my base," he said, sitting back to watch her continue to work. "The base is not a normal fully manned location. Minimal staff only when required during mission times and other than that only a handful of soldiers live in the nearest town to keep up routine maintenance," he said, finishing off his coffee. She began to wonder if they were going to run out of it before his extraction time was up with the way he was drinking it.

"So...where do you go then? Do you live in the town?" she asked, moving to another section. She had let the conditioner sit on it a bit longer than she normally would and it seemed to be helping with getting the brush through it easily.

"No, I am at the base between missions," Scary answered, turning his head to look away from her as he spoke the words a bit lower than he had been.

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"That sounds a bit hokey. You live there alone, with no movies, radio, or tv?" Star asked. Trying to put a bit of humor into this strange topic, but when he did not continue she said, "You know, I remember a saying from somewhere: _I'd tell you, but then I would have to kill you_. Well, I think that _this_ conversation _definitely_ falls into that scenario."

Scary took a deep breath as if he was considering his next words very carefully, as if trying to dude whether or not to you with he about this subject. She noticed that his forehead crinkled up a bit into worry lines, as if he did not like something. Could it really be that much of a secret? Everybody had to live somewhere.

She finally finished brushing her hair while he was still thinking so she began the process of braiding it up. Scary's eyes began to follow the path of her fingers as they wound in the intricate pattern, just like they had before. She was putting the holder on the end of the braid before Scary spoke again, seeming to have finally made up his mind.

"Between missions, I have a cryostasis chamber that I stay in. It freezes my body so that I do not age between missions. When HYDRA has a high level target, or mission, they take me out so I can perform the mission. Afterwards, I will sometimes have a few weeks of training to learn about anything they deem necessary that was invented during my time under."

Star could hear it in his voice that he was just trying to state facts about what he went through, but she could also hear a bit of sadness at the fact that he had to do it.

"And you've done this many times?"

"Yes."

"For how long?" Star asked, almost fearful to get the answer. But it would answer a _lot_ of her questions.

"Decades," Scary stated. That was why he hadn't seen any of the movies she had mentioned.

"So you are frozen, thawed, go out to kill, and then are frozen again, until the next time someone needs to die?"

Scary just nodded at her simple understanding.

"Sounds a bit like the creature from _Horror Express_?" As soon as Scary's eyes turned towards her with his eyebrows raised, she realized the mistake of her reference. "Never mind. It's just another movie I've seen. But at least your victims don't come back as zombies. Just don't whistle, OK? But...that doesn't seem like a nice thing to do to you."

Scary then stood up, his brows furrowed again, taking his empty cup with him as he made his way over to the sink. She was a bit amazed as he began the process of washing it himself. This was the first time he had done anything like that. Had she upset him with the similarity of the movie to his...existence?

Standing up herself, she walked over to the table and began to gather the plates from breakfast. Thanks to her early morning run, she had not cleaned it off yet or even dealt with the used cooking items. Stopping next to Scary who was putting his cup upside-down on the towel she had spread flat as a drying area, she turned the water on to start filling the sink to wash the dishes. When he started to move away she spoke.

"You know that I don't think of you as a creature...like from the movie, right?"

Scary stopped walking as he listened to her words.

"I know."

Star could almost hear his voice sounding a bit sadder than it had been.


	16. Kill The Tomatoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the chapters where the song listed at the top is written into the story. There are quite a few chapters like that, so give it a shot reading while listening to the song (check YouTube for the music, it's all there).

**Song: _American Woman_ by The Guess Who**

* * *

Star took her time washing the dishes trying to figure out if Scary was actually mad at her. He didn't seem to be after his comment, but they had once again fallen silent. She heard him sit back down in the chair, but he had not moved since. Maybe he was regretting telling her about where he…what?...lived?...stayed?...was stored like a tool in a box? How could he be ok with that? Did he like being frozen? Only to be let out when somebody needed to die. Let out like when Kozlov sent one of his vicious dogs into the ring to fight, to kill, to win, and then put back into the kennel.

Was HYDRA keeping the Winter Soldier like a dog on a leash? Only doing what he was told, just like she had been doing for the past few years. Thinking back to their conversations, it was beginning to sound a bit like that, now that she knew this about him.

No…he was a soldier, he had signed up to become an assassin.

But she could not shake the feeling that something just did not feel right. But it didn't seem to bother Scary, or at least not as much as some of her other questions did. Why was she upset about the living conditions of the person who would be killing her in a matter of days? Hell, if she didn't know how to cook, she would probably already have a bullet in her and be dumped on the pile of bodies next door.

Star then realized that she had finished the last dirty dish a few minutes ago and had been just standing absently at the sink. Scary hadn't said or done anything to get her attention if he realized, or even cared. She needed something to do, and luckily when she looked at the clock, it was close enough to lunch time that it could occupy her time. Besides, she only had the remnants of toast in her stomach. And Scary had an unexpected exercise session this morning. But he would eat no matter what time it was, she guessed.

Turning to face the fridge, Star began to consider what to make for lunch, remembering the different items sitting inside, in the cold, like Scary sometimes was. She closed her eyes hard, trying to push the questions from her mind. Decades? How long would usually pass while he was…gone?...asleep?...semi-conscious?...imprisoned?...before they let him out again. Did he even dream during that time? What do assassins dream of? They didn't even give him time to do anything fun for himself. She knew what that was like, but Scary did not seem the type to be wishing every day to die so he wouldn't have to have horrible acts done to him.

No, he was the one _doing_ the horrible acts.

Star started to realize that she was feeling warmth from somewhere. Had the fire gotten another log put on it? Opening her eyes to a massive black object before her, she found Scary standing only about a foot away, making her have to look up to see his face. She had not even heard him move. Scary's eyebrows were slightly raised, his expression was that of an unspoken question that was very obvious.

"I'm fine, just trying to figure out what to make for lunch," she said, but with a heavy faltering in her voice.

"Ask," was all that he said.

"Do you like it? All of it? The chamber, the freezing, the killing?" she quickly blurted out, now that he had given her permission to do so.

"It's all that I know," he simply stated. "It's what I was made for. It's what is expected of me."

Star stood there for a long time looking up at those cold blue eyes, knowing that he was telling the truth, but also sad that he _was_ telling the truth. She knew what he was missing, but he did not. How can you miss what you never had?

Star closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, opening her eyes, and giving him a small smile, an idea beginning to form.

"Do you really have to ask?" he said, returning the smile the best that he could, very poorly, but at least he was trying, she thought.

"How about you help me make it? It will give you something to do," she asked, curious if he would take up her offer. Scary looked around the kitchen like it was a foreign place, but to him it probably was. "If you can learn new and interesting ways to kill someone, I think you can handle some cooking lessons."

After a moment, Scary finally said, "Ok."

* * *

Star reached up with her hand to touch his left arm, giving him a turning motion towards the fridge. He glanced at where her hand was casually touching him but he didn't say anything, instead going with her sway. Did she realized where she had touched him? When she did not let go, but then began to drag him towards the appliance, he figured that she did, but did not care. It was a nice, quick feeling.

Star then opened the fridge and began to pull a couple of different items from the shelves, passing them over her shoulder where she expected him to take them from her.

"Star, you need to stop," he said a few moments later, as the first vegetable fell to the floor from his overflowing arms. She looked over her shoulder at him, looking exasperated again.

"Put all of it on the counter," she said, before sticking her head back in the fridge to get even more stuff. Turning, he carefully walked the few steps to the counter before letting the mixture of items down in a controlled tumble. When he turned back, he found Star closing the fridge with her foot, her arms also filled with more items.

"This seems like a lot of stuff for lunch…even for me," he said, as she put her armload down and began to sort the items into different groups.

"That's because some…ok, most of it will be for dinner. I'm going to make a vegetable soup and it'll taste better after simmering for a few hours. You know, kill two birds with one stone," Star said, now pulling dishes from the cabinets.

"I have never even killed _a_ bird, and if I did, using a stone would be the least effective way," he said, taking a step back when she then pointed a frying pan at him. Seeing this small female trying to be threatening with a cooking implement brought a smile to his face.

"Don't take everything so literal," Star said, putting the pan down, reaching back into the cabinets and pulling out a large cast iron pot. It sounded like she was straining to lift it, so he grabbed the lip of it with is right hand and put it onto the stove top. There were only two burners, one larger so he figured that was the spot for it. Looking back at Star, he saw her giving him a smile.

"I'll get the sandwiches ready to be grilled. _You_ are to go over and choose an album to put on," Star said, picking up a cutting knife and using it to point at the record player.

Looking over at the device, he hesitantly took the necessary steps to end up in front of it. Sneaking a peek at Star, he saw that she was busying herself with slicing items, not seeming interested in what he was doing. Opening up the cabinet's door, he pulled out an album. Of course he did not recognize the band's name. He wouldn't for _any_ of them.

Turning the album over, he found that there was a list of the songs. Reading the names on the first one, he didn't find anything that caught his attention. He put it back and did the same for the next three albums. Finally, there was something that seemed like an interesting title.

Pulling the record from the sheath, he began to inspect the player itself. He had watched as Star had worked it last night, but he didn't think that he would need to start it so he had not tried to pay attention to what she was doing. If he could learn to assemble a gun blindfolded, making music come out of this machine should not be a problem. He was fairly pleased with himself when only a few minutes later he was able to take a step back and watch as the record dropped into place and the arm began to move.

As the sound of the acoustic guitar began to sound and the man's voice sang, he turned to where Star was looking at him from the kitchen and smiling. He felt that the words coming from the device was pretty appropriate right now.

"Very funny," Star said, sounding sarcastic but she could not hide the wide smile on her face. "How waterproof is that arm?"

"Very," he said, making his way back to the kitchen as the gentle sound suddenly became much more screeching, but not in a bad way. He noticed that Star was already beginning to sway to the tune.

"I have the sandwiches ready to grill, but I want to get the soup on so it can simmer for a few hours," Star said, as she continued to chop up the vegetables laid out before her. He was surprised that she was so efficient with the kitchen knife that she already had numerous small piles of food ready to be cooked. "Wash your hands and then I'll be ready to throw everything in the pot."

It wasn't until he was in the middle of washing his hands that he realized he was beginning to enjoy himself. Drying his hands on a towel, he turned to find Star dumping handfuls of chopped vegetables into the warm pot. As the sound of them beginning to sizzle hit his ears, Star held out a large wooden spoon, expecting him to take it, which he did hesitantly.

"Keep stirring or they'll burn," she stated, pointing at the pot before turning back to work more with the knife on the cutting board. "Use your left arm to stir. If the oil gets too hot, it'll pop."

He was a bit surprised that Star was worried about him getting hurt, but he did as she suggested. He kept stirring for the next few minutes, Star looking over his shoulder every once in a while. She then brought a bowl of peeled tomatoes next to the pot. Picking up one of them, she held it out in front of him. When he just stared at her, she raised it to his face. Reaching out and taking it, he watched as Star took one in her own hands and then began to crush the vegetable over the pot, pulverizing it into small chunks.

"Go ahead," she said, before picking up another one. "You're allowed to kill it."

Squeezing the juicy, slimy thing in his hand, he saw that it brought a smile to her face as she watched him. They then stood there silently listening to the music while crushing the remaining tomatoes together, both comfortable with the strange connection that was being made.

"Couldn't you have cut these up instead?" he asked curious.

"Yeah, but this is more fun," she said, grinding the offending vegetable with an evil laugh.

When the last tomato was destroyed, Star began to lick the juice off of her fingers as she turned to the sink to wash her hands. He found himself wondering what it would taste like if he were to lick the juice from her fingers.

The instant the thought appeared, he stopped all movement. Where had _that_ come from?

"... _American woman going to mess your mind_ …" the singer crooned on.

Before Star noticed anything strange with him, he muttered, "I'll use the bathroom," before hurriedly leaving the room before she could protest. He made it there in record time, closing the door firmly behind him.

Standing and staring into the mirror, he checked his pupils for dilation, one of the signs of a concussion. That was a possible explanation for why he would think such a random idea. Indeed, they were slightly dilated, but that also did not make sense, as he had not taken any sort of head injury. Closing his eyes and starting to take a couple of deep breaths, he began thinking about the proper way to sharpen a blade, how to load a magazine...anything but fingers.

Opening his eyes back up, he was pleased to find that they seemed to have returned to normal. Hoping that it was just a one-time event, he proceeded to wash the drying juice from his hands.

Making his way back to the den, he found Star putting the lid onto the pot. There were a couple of small bottles next to the stove, which she picked up and took back over to the pantry. She was already cooking their sandwiches. How long had he been gone?

"I got the sandwiches if you can get the drinks," Star said, picking up a tool with a thin, flat surface area. She had not noticed anything strange about him, which was good since there really had not been anything to worry about, he told himself.

"What do I need to get?" he asked, moving to the fridge and opening it.

"Milk for both of us should be fine," Star said, poking at the items in the frying pan. He pulled the glass bottle of milk out and filled two glasses with the liquid. He carried them over to the table and sat down, not sure what to do next. Since Star then lifted the sandwiches from the pan and put them on plates, he figured that she was done with…asking him to help?...ordering him around?...trying to interact with him?

He barely noticed the plate being put down before him until Star asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No, I was just wondering what it is," he said, picking up the warm sandwich.

"This is a grilled ham and cheese sandwich. Yesterday it was just a plain grilled cheese, but I was using some of the ham chunks in the soup so…," Star said taking a bite. He copied her movement, glad that he did, tasting the savory flavor. This was just as good as the one without the meat inside.

"Did you mean to put the record into repeating the same song?" Star asked between bites.

"It is?" he asked, looking over at the machine, realizing that she was right. The same song _had been_ playing over and over. Maybe _that_ was why he had thought something strange was going on. It was just the song, he decided. "No, I didn't. But at least I got it to play in the first place."

Star gave a laugh while saluting him with the remainder of her sandwich.

"To small victories," she said, smiling at him, which he realized that he was returning towards her.

They continued to eat, letting the repeating song play on in the background. She had made him only two sandwiches this time, but he found that with the addition of the thick slices of meat, that he was satisfied when he finished off the second one.

"So," Star asked as they sat at the table finished with lunch but not wanting to move. "Think you have a sweet tooth?"

Not understanding her terminology once again, he just stared at her. Star then stood up and went to the pantry, pulling out a large metal tin. Placing it on the table, he saw that it was very colorful. When she popped the lid off, he saw that the contents were just as vibrant. The assortment of items inside were covered in a white powder, he was not sure what they were.

"It's called Turkish Delight," Star said picking up a piece. "That's what I've always called it, I'm not sure if there is another term."

Taking a piece for himself, he sniffed it, finding it did have a sweet smell to it, probably the powder. He also realized that he was able to squish it between his fingers. Watching Star bite into her piece, he followed suit. The sweet flavor was very satisfying. He had not ever eaten anything like it before, he was sure. Finishing off the remaining part, he reached into the tin and began to pull out a single piece of every color that was on the inside, determined to try them all.

"I guess you like it then," Star said, taking another for herself. She was watching him as he bit into each piece trying them out. Star then picked up the tins lid and closed it back up. "I think that with the way you're going through those, you'd eat the entire box in a sitting so _these_ will be going back into the pantry. I'd hate for you to eat all of it in a sitting and have nothing for later."

When Star came back towards the table, he had already eaten all of the candy he had selected. She stopped right next to where he was sitting and began to smile at him. Reaching out with her hand, she then gently placed her hand over his jawline and began to rub her thumb across his upper lip repeatedly.

"You got the powdered sugar all over your face, Scary," she said, using the silly name she had given him. As he looked up at her, gently touching him like none of the doctors or scientist ever did, his eyes fell to the collar that was still around her neck.

When she began to pull her hand away, saddened a bit that the offending whiteness was gone, he reached out and took hold of her wrist. Standing up from the chair, he began to lead her over to where he had brought in the black gun bag from the generator shed this morning. He had forgotten all about it being out there yesterday after being distracted by the music upon his return from the recon. When he had gone to turn off the generator, the darkness helped to conceal it from him once again.

Picking the bag up off of the floor, he walked over to the hearth, Star following behind him silently as he held her wrist. Sitting down, he placed the bag next to him and positioned Star so that she was standing directly before him. When he opened the bag, exposing the collection of guns inside, he noticed that Star's stance stiffened and her breathing became a bit more erratic.

When he pulled out the cutters that he had found and put inside of the bag, he noticed that she began to relax. He had not thought about what Star may think was going to happen when she saw the guns. He had not intended to frighten her, which meant that he would be more careful about doing it from now on.

"Turn around," he said, holding the cutters higher so that she could get a good look at them. Her hand instantly flew up to the collar around her neck.

"You're going to cut it off?" she asked uncertain.

"Yes," he said. He saw that her forehead creased slightly, as if considering something. "What?"

"Won't the police need it to help identify my body?" she asked, looking more at the cutters while avoiding his eyes.

"Do you want it off?" he simply asked.

"Yes."

"Then turn around," he told her.

Star took only a moment before turning around and lifting up her braid, trying to expose the back of her neck to give him an open view of the lock. He had looked on the key ring and none of the keys were for a small padlock like the one that she had forcing the awful item onto her body. None of the ones in the woods had the locks removed either. Kozlov knew that he would not need it to remove the collar from her. If Star saw the other graves, would she also figure out what Kozlov had planned for her?

Reaching up, he allowed his fingers to gently trace over the exposed skin of her neck, not a necessary movement but he found he wanted to do it, before coming to rest on the collar. Taking the lock in his hand, he lifted it, placing the clippers around the arm of the lock. It was not a very heavy gauge metal, but for someone like Star, and without the proper tools, she would never have been able to remove it herself.

At the loud sound of the metal snapping, Star visibly jumped, but did not move away from him. Holding the lock, he unclasped it from the hasp and pulled the two ends apart for the first time in four years. He then pulled the collar from around her neck.

Star turned around to where he was now sitting with the collar held out for her to take. She stared at it for a moment, almost mesmerized by the sight of it. He realized that Star was used to seeing it only in her reflection. Her hands came out and took it from him, her eyes never leaving it.

Putting the bolt cutters back in the bag, he closed it before standing up and taking the bag with him. Putting the bag on his chair at the table, he began to collect the dirty dishes from the table and took them over to the sink.

Turning around, he leaned back to rest against the countertop in the kitchen, watching as Star just stood there staring at the collar. From his vantage point he could see her eyes becoming moist with tears. She had to be remembering a collection of horrible events that had brought her to this final place.

He lost count of how many minutes he watched her as she stood before the fireplace before he saw her posture change. Star seemed to stand a bit straighter than before, with a look of determination on her face. She then gave the collar a firm throw directly into the fireplace. A smile crossed her face as she watched it burn.


	17. Professor Scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song coincidence – during the time of writing this chapter, I heard radio advertisement that Three Dog Night was coming to town for concert.

**Song: _Shambala_ by Three Dog Night**

* * *

Unlocking the back door, he looked over to where Star was still staring at the fire, watching the collar burn. He walked outside and headed over to the woodpile behind the house. He had noticed that the temperature had not warmed up since this morning. They could probably expect much colder nights very soon. There were still some logs from when he had previously cut them but more needed to be cut. It would give him something to do, he figured. Walking back towards the generator shed where the ax was, on his trip back, he found Star sitting barefoot on the bottom step, waiting.

"Time for more wood?" she asked, standing to follow him back to the pile.

"Yes," he said, watching as she picked up a couple of pieces and headed towards the back door.

For the next half hour, he continued to chop logs while Star would pick them up and take them inside. She did not seem to want to talk right now, which was fine with him. He was still a bit disturbed by the licking of the finger incident earlier. What had made him think of something like that? Unless he was extracting information, he had never before spent time with a target, but that was exactly what he was doing right now.

Limiting their time together would be the best, but not easily achieved in such small quarters. He needed to remember that even with their interactions, as his extraction day got closer, that Star would have to be dealt with before then. He would finish the mission. He saw no difficulty with her request for her family to know of her fate. After what she had been through, she deserved at least that much from him. Deciding that there was enough wood for now, he returned the ax to the shed.

Coming back into the house, he heard another song playing. Star had changed out the record, this band sounding a bit softer than the last. Looking at his gun bag, still sitting on his chair, he walked over to it, wondering how he had forgotten about it. He had left it unguarded…where Star could have gotten to it. He could tell that she had not, but was that because she had not noticed it, was too scared to try something, or at the point where she did not care anymore?

Star had taken the couch for herself, lying down staring at the ceiling with a blanket on top of her, pillow under her head, as if she were going to take a nap. He didn't mind if she did, there was not a lot here to occupy her. He tried to not think of how Kozlov would have passed the time.

Heading over to the cabinet, he reached up and removed the bag of guard's weapons he had hidden back up there after his test yesterday, which Star had passed. Putting it on the table, he opened it and began to remove the assortment of guns that he had taken from the guards. His original idea for having this down time had been to do some target practice, and he decided that tomorrow would be a good day to do that. He could use the next couple of hours cleaning his own weapons, and inspecting the guard's guns to make sure they were in good working condition.

Grabbing his sniper rifle, placing it on the countertop, as well as his own weapon's bag, he began to arrange his guns onto the table. He then realized that with the startling discovery of Star, he had not properly clean his rifle after taking out Kozlov. He would do that in a little while, and then again tomorrow after practicing.

He had plenty of bullets for his own weapons to use for practice, but he had not found any spare bullets for the weapons the guards had. Either they had forgotten to bring them or they did not feel that they would need any out here. Probably the latter, he figured, but then that just made him think that they were idiots.

Never go anywhere without multiple weapons and plenty of ammunition.

* * *

Star opened her eyes as she heard the familiar metallic sound of guns being handled. There had been many times she had witnessed guards cleaning weapons and talking amongst themselves, laughing and joking as they worked. Now, it seemed that Scary was checking out _his_ collection.

She watched as his fingers slid over the gun, removing bullets, clips, taking it apart, and then reassembling it. It looked a lot like what she had seen before, but there was something about his movements that was a lot smoother, a bit more fluid. Like he knew what he was doing much more than any of the guards ever had. Which he probably did, she thought.

Rolling over from her back to her side, she was able to get a better view of Scary sitting at the table. He never once looked her way, instead concentrating on the weapons. While they had been cooking together, she had noticed that he seemed a bit more at ease, almost as if he were having fun. She had been trying to get him to, but after hearing his story, she didn't know if he really knew how.

When he had left and disappeared to the bathroom for quite a while, she wasn't sure why he had, but when he finally returned, he seemed a bit distracted, going back to their mutual silence. Maybe she had gotten to him and he did not know how to handle it? But now that he was occupied with something of his choosing, his expression had seemed to change back to being a bit harder.

After watching him move to another gun and begin the process over again, Star made a decision and sat up on the couch. She moved over to the chair that was close to the hearth and pushed it a bit backwards so that it was now closer to the table.

"Do you know how to use every one of those guns?" Star asked, but already guessing the answer.

"Yes. These are basic pistols, not modified in any way," Scary answered, taking the one in his hand and holding it out a bit closer so that she could see.

"That's one of the guard's guns, right?" she asked, spotting one that had a hand carving of a cross on the handle. She knew that some of the guards marked their weapons.

"Yes. I collected all of the guns, but they did not have any extra ammunition with them," he said.

"Did you check the van? They usually pack a small wooden box with extra ammunition for trips sometimes. Since they complain that it gets heavy, and they are…were…pretty lazy so they would leave it in the van unless they need it," Star offered. She wondered if it would have helped them against Scary, but figured that it would not have.

"That's not a very tactically sound plan. You can get pinned down nowhere near the van and if you need it, it could cost you your life," he said, finishing his inspection of the gun in his hand and putting it off to the side with the other already finished ones.

"Don't think that they cared that much. They probably felt pretty safe out here," Star offered. "Want to check the van?"

"Yes," Scary answered, standing as she did the same.

Unlocking the front door, she took off the socks she had been wearing so that she could walk barefoot. She had done the same thing earlier when she had carried the wood inside. It was cool out but she did not mind. She was limited on the number of socks she had left to wear, especially after losing one set this morning. Besides, it had been years since she had walked barefoot on grass, discovering that it was a feeling she had not realized that she had missed.

The van had been parked off to the side of the guard's house, next to the vehicle that Kozlov had come in. Testing the handle, Scary found that the guards had not even bothered to lock it once they got here. Opening the back doors, she saw that it was slightly messy inside. Two extra seats had been bolted down for extra passengers off to the side. There was not much besides food wrappers, but up near the back side of the driver's seat, there was indeed a small wooden box, a military storage type. Stepping inside Scary twisted the latch and opened it up to reveal that it was full of boxes of bullets with only a handful of extra empty magazines.

"Wasteful to carry them empty like that," he said, more to himself than to her, she guessed. "They were sloppy to leave this. Not that it would have been any help," he said, closing the lid back down. Star stepped inside and made her way forward to where he was.

"That is cold," she said, stepping across the bare metal floor.

Star moved past him and began to examine the front of the van, glancing under the seats before opening the glove box. Inside was filled with papers that had been crumpled into a mess. She began to pull the papers out, examining what they were before tossing them onto the floorboard on the opposite side from where she sat.

"Looks like mostly receipts. Some notes, but they are in Russian. Are you interested in them?" Star asked, looking over her shoulder to where Scary was now crouched between the two front seats, right next to her, their shoulders almost touching.

"No. My mission was to take Kozlov out, not an information gathering one," Scary replied, looking around the interior of the van.

Star went back to checking the papers before tossing them on the floor. If anything, she had hoped to find something to write on, and at least a pen or pencil. Scary had said that she could leave her information but now she needed something to do that on.

"Junk, nuddie magazine, junk…a map of Moscow…junk…ah-ha," Star suddenly yelled in surprise. Near the bottom on the pile was the remnants of a note pad, small and postcard size, but with a couple of blank pages. She had found half of what she needed.

"You didn't see anything to write with, did you?" Star asked pulling the remaining trash from the glove box. Nothing else useful.

Scary moved back from where he was leaning forward watching her and began to look across the floor in the back. After only a few moments, he leaned forward with half of a broken pencil in his hand.

"How's this?" he offered it to her.

"Perfect. Especially since it's the only option," Star said, taking it from him and turning in the seat to get out. Scary had grabbed one of the handles of the box and was dragging it towards the open back door. Beginning to also move towards the door, Star noticed that under the spare back seats was another black bag, pushed up all the way to the wall.

"Hey," she said to get Scary's attention, not wanting to seem suspicious by suddenly grabbing for something without him knowing what she was doing. When he turned, she pointed under the seat to where the item was. Reaching under, she pulled it out and pushed it toward the door where there was more light. Opening the bag, she found more men's clothes and bathroom supplies, including a razor and shaving cream. She did not need it, but Scary looked to be on a couple of day's old beard.

"More clothes," Star said, slipping down from the van to the ground. Grabbing the handle, she slung the bag over her shoulder. Scary grabbed the handles on the box, she closed the back of the van, and they made their way back inside.

"Well…that was a short field trip," Star commented, plopping the bag down on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Taking a seat, she began to pull the items from it to sort in to either a pile for her, him, or junk. Luckily most of the items were on the smaller side, since Scary was closer to the size of the guards and already had plenty to use, if he wanted to. She gathered the bathroom items and took them there, putting the razor on the counter with the cream. He had not shaven since they had been there and his beard had been slowly coming in. If he wanted to use it, at least he knew that it was there for him.

Coming back out of the bedroom, she saw that Scary was at his seat at the table and was once again examining the guns. Walking into the kitchen, she gave the vegetable soup a stir, making sure that it was still doing fine. Not ready to be bored by just sitting on the couch, Star made her way over to her seat at the table to join him, propping her arm up on the table, supporting her chin with her hand. Watching him cleaning the guns, she could almost imagine that it was like watching a too long, continuous scene in a movie. Scary did not seem to care or complain that she was sitting so close to the weapons. It was not like she would be a threat to someone like him. If she had been, he would have taken her out days ago.

* * *

As he continued to check the guns, he would glance over at Star sitting across from him, watching his hands move over the weapons. He guessed that she had never shot a gun before, but had probably seen them in action many times over the past few years. She seemed to be a bit curious as to what he was doing, but she just sat there quietly. She looked bored and like she needed something to do.

"What do you know about guns?" he asked, holding the gun in his hand up for her to see.

"Bullets come out of them pretty fast and the person on the other side dies," Star answered with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, grinning at him.

"Only if you're doing it right," he coyly replied, trying to joke back with her. Picking up a magazine, he asked, "What is this called?"

"I've heard it called a clip a lot," she said.

Handing the empty magazine to Star, he corrected her, "No, it's called a magazine. A clip is something else."

Picking up a box of bullets from the wooden box he passed it across the table to her. Taking another empty magazine from the box, he then scooted his chair around the side of the table so that he was closer to her. Taking a couple of bullets from the box, he held one up so that she could get a good look at it.

"I'm going to teach you how to load a magazine," he said casually, getting a smile from Star. Holding the magazine and bullets, he explained the motion of what he was doing as he slipped the bullets into place. He could tell that she was listening and watching him carefully, like a student should.

Giving her the magazine and a box of ammo to load into it, he watched as she at first struggled to get the bullets into the slot. Trying to get the correct push and slide motion with enough downward force on the spring frustrated her. As she kept trying, he noticed that she would sometimes bite the corner of her left lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated. He doubted that she even realized what she was doing, but something about the gesture gave him a strange feeling, one that he did not mind, so he kept watching her work. Every time she was able to get a bullet into place, he could see her expression change to one that showed she was proud of her accomplishment. Star would then pick up another bullet and keep going.

When she had finished loading the magazine, she held it out towards him eagerly with a smile on her face. He took it from her, examined her work, nodded approvingly and then twisted it around, holding it up for her to see. He then slid his finger over the top bullet so that it ejected outward and fell onto the table top.

"Awww," she sounded sad, while looking at the bullet lying on the table's surface.

"Now, keep doing that until it is empty. Then load it again," he instructed her, offering it back to her on the palm of his hand.

As her fingers reached out to take the magazine, he felt her smooth fingers glide over his open palm, gently tickling his skin. He held his place, but his initial reaction was to recoil from it. There was no reason for that, he told himself, it was not a threatening action. Paying attention to Star once his thoughts were silent, he saw that she had not seen anything strange about the touch and was popping out the bullets.

Over the next couple of hours, they sat at the table, while Star learned how to load and unload a magazine, learned the difference in bullet calibers, disassembled a gun, clean it, and reassembled it. Star never complained about what she was learning, she almost seemed to enjoy it instead. It had to be better than just sitting around and doing nothing all day.

Star had difficulty at first remembering where all of the parts of the Glock pistol he had given her to disassemble went, but after a bit of help, she finally got it back together. To which he then told her to take it apart and do it again. That earned him a small sticking out of her tongue in his direction, but she did it without question. He found that by the fifth time she did it without help, he was actually proud of her.

She had to work on trying to figure out the amount of pressure necessary to slide an empty magazine into place, but she finally got it. The only breaks that she took were when she went to check on the soup, while his breaks consisted of putting more wood on the fires. Star would ask questions about the different weapons, mostly trying to figure out why there were so many different types and sizes, but he would answer all of them with his own opinion. Overall, he found that he also was enjoying spending the day the way they were.

There was something comforting in being able to communicate with Star on what he considered his level. He knew weapons, not cooking. He had worked with soldiers before during training, but they usually had knowledge of weapons already. Star was learning from the ground up and not doing badly even with the limited assortment of guns. At least she seemed eager, like she was enjoying herself.

As he finished a weapon's check, he would place it back into either his gun bag or the spare one from the guards, depending on whose it had originally been. Their guns were nothing special and he didn't care to take them back to the base. He had not brought his sniper gun from the countertop, which was taking up a large portion of it, but he saw her glancing at it every once in a while. She seemed interested in it, which started to give him an idea.

The sun had already begun to set, given the late time of year, giving the house plenty of shadows. Turning on the small hanging light over the table, Star pulled two bowls from the cabinet and began to fill them with the wonderful smelling dish.

"Dinner time, Professor," she said, to which he gave her a questioning look. "I figured it sounded better than Scary."

"I think that Scary is more fitting," he said, trying to return the humor she seemed to enjoy, trying to get the last of the guns into their right bags.

Star brought the bowls over and placed them on the table before heading back to get some drinks. She quickly returned with drinks and spoons before disappearing again. He picked up his spoon and started to eat as Star returned to the table, placing a napkin in the center of it, containing a large handful of Turkish Delights.

Reaching out for a piece of one with his left hand, he suddenly received a smack on the back of his hand with Star's spoon just before obtaining the treat. As the ringing of metal on metal echoed through the house, he looked up at the crazy girl now taking her seat across from him.

"Did you _really_ just smack _my_ hand?"

"Yes," Star replied using same said spoon to begin to eat her meal. "Not until you finish dinner."

He wanted to say something but as he sat there watching her eat, heavily focused on her own bowl suddenly, he could see the corners of her lips slight raised. She was doing her best to try and not smile. She was intentionally provoking him, a far cry from the frightened girl of this morning after learning his name. But he realized that for all that she had been told about him, she knew that it was Kozlov who had inflicted the pain on her, not him. He had not done anything to make her actually scared of him.

Star never expected to leave here. She was just trying to have fun after having it denied to her for so long and doing whatever she could to achieve that, even tease him, her killer. Like she didn't have a care in the world. Which, in a way, she didn't have. Star seemed to be back to how she had been yesterday when he had gotten back and found her dancing around. He found that he liked her this way.

"Fine," he huffed, faking an angry tone in his voice, dipping his own spoon into the hot soup. Taking a bite, he found himself giving an appreciative sound at the taste it produced. He looked over at Star and found her smiling at him as he continued to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Star smacking his hand while reaching for a sweet before eating dinner, I like to think that Bucky would have had something like that growing up with either his or Steve's mom doing the same thing. It would only slightly trigger a familiar feeling, and since it would have been by someone he cared about, that feeling would pass over now to Star.


	18. Day Four - Time For A Field Trip

**Song: _Problem Child_ by AC/DC**

* * *

**Day Four**

* * *

As Star started to wake up, she tried to figure out what had roused her. The tapping sound echoed again, making her partially open one eye, letting her see that it was coming from behind the closed bathroom door. There was light barely making it through the edges of the door into the dark bedroom.

Listening better she could now hear the sound of faint running water. Scary was inside doing something. That was what had woken her.

Of course it hadn't been him _walking_ through the bedroom or _closing_ the door. By the glow of the fire, he must have put more logs on recently too. Nope, those movements had been as silent as ever.

Star remembered how last night, while they had been sitting in the den listening to the record that she had put on, she had started to fall asleep on the floor. But Scary, sitting in the armchair, looking comfortably bored, had not even seemed tired. He almost seemed deep in thought, but all of his actions seemed a bit off compared to how others acted, so she was not sure.

Getting up from the floor in front of the fire, her favorite spot, she had headed to the bathroom and gotten ready for bed. She was actually surprised that when she had left the bathroom, that Scary had then gone inside and she heard him brushing his teeth. Small victories, she had thought.

But instead of bedding down on the couch, he had just locked her ankle then gone back out to the chair and sat down. Did he ever sleep? Really, she had no idea _if_ he slept. She had yet to see him do it.

Trying to roll over, Star found that the pillows were once again resting down the bed, touching her back, thanks to Scary. Turning over to put the bathroom behind her, she was glad that there was still plenty of chain resting on the bed so moving didn't drag it over the floor, alerting Scary to the fact that she was awake.

Grabbing the pillow now against her chest she began a death grip on it. She hated the fact that she'd had that damn nightmare again last night. Pulling the blanket up so that it covered all the way to her nose, she glanced at the window and saw that the sun had not even started to come up yet. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she could get back to sleep, even for another hour or so.

Just as she was sure that sleep was about to come, she heard the sound of the light switch in the bathroom flicking off and the subtle sound of the knob turning.

"Not sneaky," she mumbled a moment later, without bothering to open her eyes.

"Wasn't trying to be," she heard from directly in front of her, not behind her.

Opening her eyes quickly, Star found that Scary was now crouched next to the bed across from her, his head the only part visible above the mattress. She had not even heard him move across the room from the bathroom. The only light in the room was from the fireplace, which was barely giving off enough for her to see his outline. It looked like his hair was once again flopping down to cover his face.

"Wait, how did you…If that's you _not_ trying to be sneaky, then damn," Star told him, before flicking her fingers towards him in a gesture, saying, "Go away."

"The sun will be up soon, time to get ready for the day. Breakfast," Scary said, moments before Star felt his hand sliding under the covers, taking her ankle in his warm hand and pulling it toward him while dragging her partially across the bed. She gave a loud moan of disapproval at the motion, but not at the nice warm hand that held her. How could he be so warm all the time?

Star felt the chilly air touch her socked foot as he moved the blanket so that he could see to unlock the cuff. As soon as it was off, she quickly pulled her foot back under and hunched over into a fetal position to get warm, going so far as to even grip the pillow she was holding between her legs.

"No, it's too early," Star barely got out before all the blankets and covers on the bed suddenly disappeared, exposing her to the cold air she had been hiding from and pulling a startled scream from her lips. As she laid there on the bed, Scary then turned the light on for the room, standing and looking a bit too proud of what he had done. With the light on she could see that he had shaved his face, it was looking very smooth. His hair looked like a controlled mess, actually _brushed_ but hanging loose. It was not fair that he looked that appealing. "That's not a nice thing to do."

"Wasn't meant to be. Get up," he said but she could hear something that sounded a bit like playfulness in his voice.

Only because she was curious, not because she actually wanted to, Star began to crawl out of the bed. Luckily she had slept in an oversized shirt with sweats and socks so that Scary had not gotten an eyeful at his stunt, but then she realized, he had already seen her naked, so what did it matter.

Making her way into the den, she turned around to face him, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Any request, Scary?" she yawned, irritated at being awake at this awful hour, even without knowing what time it really was.

"Something warm and filling, along with coffee. Also, four sandwiches packed to go and snacks and lots of water in a portable container," he said crossing his arms as he stated his demands. She could definitely now see that there was something almost happy about his expression.

"Fine," Star said, moving over to the record player, seeing the front door was locked but the outside woods seemed free of fog this morning.

Glancing through the albums, she selected the loudest and the most inappropriate morning music she could find. Turning the volume up to where Scary would not think it overly loud and turn it down, Star made her way to the kitchen and began to consider her options. She noticed the back door was also locked, explaining why Scary was not moving to chain her ankle.

After only a few minutes, she had a large bowl of oatmeal going and a pile of chopped apples to mix in with it. She was putting together a couple of sandwiches, raw vegetables, and fruit at his request. Scary had left his canteen on the counter for water.

She figured that Scary was going out like he had done the first day when he had disappeared for a couple of hours. At least she could play some loud music and dance for a bit, and maybe an uninterrupted nap, the thought bringing a smile to her face.

As she had started to cook, Scary had grabbed something from the couch before disappearing back into the bedroom and shutting the door, leaving her curious as to what he was doing. Because of the music she had chosen, she realized, Star could not hear any movement from the room…if he was making any.

Before he emerged from the room, she had the sandwiches in a brown paper bag with the snacks in another and the canteen filled. She was limited on a bag to carry it all in, but she knew that he had a couple somewhere, just not in sight.

Once Scary finally left the bedroom, he had put on a black tank top shirt and cargo pants with his boots, tossing his leather vest onto the nearby chair. Star noted that he closed the door behind him, almost making her worry a bit, as if Scary was hiding something.

Sitting at the table together, they ate without speaking but she noticed that Scary seemed to have a purpose today, more than he had before. She hoped that if today was the day he was going to kill her, that he wouldn't seem as…what? Eager?

When they finally finished eating, with Scary going through three cups of coffee fairly quickly in her opinion, she took the dishes over to the sink to wash. Scary barely glanced inside of the bags she had left on the counter, but seemed pleased with what he found.

"Where's the canteen?" he asked.

"Freezer, cooling until you're ready to go," Star said, washing the bowls. Scary then gathered up the bags and headed back into the bedroom with them, again closing the door. Star figured if he wanted to be creepy, let him. She was surprised when he returned only a few moments later. Remembering seeing an item when she had been cleaning, she told him, "If you want, there is a thermos I could use for more water."

"Yes, use it also. Are you finished?" he asked, seeing that she was on the last dirty dish.

"Yeah," Star said drying off her hands, then pulling the thermos from the cabinet above the fridge and filling it also.

"Good, come on," he said turning to head back to the bedroom.

Curious because of it being Scary, but a bit cautious from her memories of Kozlov, Star followed very slowly, trying to get a look through the door before going inside. She wanted a bit of warning first, at least. But when she looked past him standing just inside the door, all she saw were clothes sitting on the bed. Stepping inside, now really curious, she looked up at Scary with a questioning look.

"Everything on the bed should fit you. Put them on. I'll be waiting for you," Scary said heading back out the door, closing it behind him, before she could question him. Star wondered if she could consider this behavior and request weird, but since she was used to just doing what was told of her, she fell back into that pattern.

After giving the items a quick once over, Star began to put on the ensemble that Scary had laid out for her. She recognized some of the items from her pile on the floor that she figured she wouldn't need. She first lifted the pair of boxer shorts, the best that could be done out here to substitute for underwear. At least they were clean, she thought.

Putting on the small pair of black pants, she saw that they were similar to Scary's. To hold them up, he had found a small black belt and had even put a few more notches in it so it would fit around her. There was a long sleeve dark grey shirt, followed by a black tank top. There were two sets of socks sitting next to a pair of black military boots, the kind the guards would sometimes wear.

Putting on both pairs of socks, Star then picked a boot up, finding that it was a fairly small size, and by wearing two socks on a foot, it fit well enough. Star grabbed the wool hat and knitted gloves, waiting to put them on. As she headed to the door, she heard the record player turn off. How did he know she was done?

Opening the bedroom door, she found Scary standing only a few feet away waiting, his appearance now stopping her in her tracks. While she was getting dressed, Scary had completed his own outfit. He wore a one-armed black leather vest, clearly exposing his metal arm in all of its fearsome glory. His eyes were covered once again in the black stuff, while his handsome lower face was covered up with a black mask, hair dangling once again to obscure his features.

 _This_ was the Winter Soldier, the one Kozlov had been terrified to speak the name of unless drunk. Star now understood why he _had_ been. But seeing him this way, she knew that it should scare her worse than yesterday morning when she learned who he really was, but for some reason, she was fairly calm. There was something about his eyes, not cold, but bright…and looking right at her.

"The hat should hold your braid out of the way," Scary stated, sizing up her own appearance, giving a slight nod of approval and looking pleased with himself. He held out a jacket for her, but Star just wrapped it around her waist, not wanting to put in on, but she figured that if he offered, she may need it.

"Where did you find the shoes?" she asked after taking a deep calming breath, to which he only raised his eyebrows in answer. Taking a moment, the answer came to her…one of the dead guards must have been _wearing_ them since they had not been in the luggage. Probably Ivan, he was the shortest, and closest to her height. "Yuck."

Reaching down, he picked up one of the two bags sitting at his feet, passing it over for Star to take. Grasping the handle, it dropped slightly due to the heavy weight that she had not been prepared for. Slinging it over her shoulder, she watched Scary pick up the other much larger bag with ease and put it over his left shoulder. He then grabbed his rifle from the couch and used a strap to hold it over his right shoulder.

"Come on," he said heading to the front door.

Opening it so that she could go through, Scary locked it behind them as they left, pocketing the keys. The sun had finally risen over the horizon, but due to the height of the trees, the entire area was still mostly dark but not enough that they couldn't see. Star went ahead and put the gloves on, glad he had thought of them due to the colder morning air.

Slipping the hat partially over her head, she rolled her long braid into a ball before pulling the hat down over it to keep it in place. It felt strange to have her hair like that. It had been so long since she really could do whatever she wanted with her hair.

Making their way to the shed, Scary proceeded inside and checked something with the generator. Star had not seen inside of here yet, so she stuck her head in, trying to see through the darkness what may be useful. There were tools, the ax, scraps of wood, but not much else. The only thing that caught her attention was a small rod of metal sitting next to the door. Picking it up, she tested the length to that of her arm, and found the thickness about the size of her finger.

"Scary, could I take this?" she asked holding the rod up so that Scary could get a good look at it. He gave it a cursory look, probably trying to figure out its usefulness, but he nodded his consent. "Cool."

Heading back outside, Scary locked the shed door then began to make his way around the guard house towards a path opening in the woods. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked over at the one that had caught her attention from the kitchen sink, the one that he had made a point of _not_ having her look at.

"So, where are we going, Scary? Or should I call you Winter Soldier since you're dressed up?" Star asked as they entered the woods.

"No! Don't call me that," he said a bit too quickly she thought, guessing he didn't want the name spoken for privacy reasons. "Call me Scary."

"Do you have a real name I could use?" Star asked curious, wondering why she hadn't asked sooner.

"No," he answered after a few moments longer than she thought it should take. This must be another one of _those_ subjects. Continuing down the path behind him taking two steps for every one of his, they hadn't gone too far before Star needed to speak up again.

"Look, I'm good to keep on truckin', but could we do it a little bit slower?" Star asked after having to move at a fairly fast pace to keep up.

"What?" Scary asked not understanding the slang, staying at the same pace.

"Just walk like a normal person so that I don't drop," Star said exasperated as he kept walking. "You know…having me put on a get-up like this kind of reminds me of playing with a Barbie Doll. Well, maybe in this case, probably more like a G.I. Joe. Where are we going?"

Star suddenly found herself almost running into Scary's back as he suddenly stopped, turning to look at her. When his eyes fell over her, Star found herself holding her breath. There was no way to interpret the look he was giving her due to his…everything. Was he mad at her? All she could do was focus on the blue of his eyes, a blue luminous area in his darkness.

"We are going to the lake. Target practice," he said crossing his arms, staring her down, giving her a very queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I'm not the target, am I?" Star asked, a bit proud that she was brave enough to ask it aloud but she needed to know for sure and found herself starting to ramble on. "I mean, you dragged me out of bed, have me doing a death march through the dark woods into the middle of nowhere, you have that monster with you," gesturing to the rifle using her metal rod before quickly lowering it thinking he may take it as a threat, "And you look like that. But since you had me play dress-up, I figure you wouldn't go through that much trouble if that's what's happening. You get why I'm a bit freaked out, right?"

"Yes, I can understand," Scary replied easing his stance a bit. "No…you are not the target."

With those couple of words, Star found herself relaxing also.

"Sorry for turning into a blathering idiot. I just wanted to make sure I had a few more days," she revealed to him bluntly.

"You do," Scary said honestly to her, "We are going somewhere to have…fun."

"Fun? Your kind of fun…target practice," Star said beginning to understand. This was what he knew, how he was comfortable, how he could interact with her. "We? You're going to let me shoot a gun?"

"Only if you listen to my instructions," he stated. "Come on, Doll. Let's get moving."

Star watched as he reached out with his right hand, offering it to her to take. Grasping it in her left, Scary turned back toward the direction they had been previously going in, but when he started to move again it was at a comfortable pace which Star could easily keep up with. She wasn't sure how far they had gone before her mind realized something.

Had he just called her doll?

* * *

The feeling of having her hand in his was wrong. He knew that he should not be liking the feeling it was giving him. He kept telling himself that it was to make sure that they stayed together after her admission of falling too far behind, that he did not lose her. Holding her hand made sure that she was close to him at all times. That was the logical explanation for doing it.

They were now about half way to the lake and had yet to speak again. He was used to long periods of silence, but Star seemed to be able to deal with both. She would ask questions but had no problem with just being there. He didn't know if he preferred one over the other. There were questions that he would not, or sometimes could not, answer. That was when he felt the most uncomfortable at being around her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement again, the thing that she was doing with the metal rod that she wanted from the shed. She was moving it in a rotating pattern, almost similar to what he did with his knives, but a bit different. Star did not seem to be aware that she was even doing it. It almost seemed like something she had been trained in, like it could have been used as a weapon. He had some training with blunt weapons, holding them like a stick, but she was holding it in the center to make it spin.

"What are you doing with that?" he finally asked, his curiosity getting to him.

"With what?" Star asked, looking up at him not understanding his question.

"The rod. Why did you want it?" he inquired.

"Oh, it's pretty close to a baton. When I saw it, I thought it would be fun to fiddle with," Star told him, holding the rod up so that he could get a better look at it.

"But that's not the proper way to hold a truncheon to hit someone," he said remembering his training.

"You don't hit someone with a baton," Star replied seeming a bit shocked by his answer.

"Yes, you do. They can be a very effective weapon for subduing someone if you need them alive," he stated.

"Wait, what did you call it?" Star asked holding the rod up again.

"A truncheon. Also called a nightstick, billy club, baton…" he began to raddle off the other terms he knew.

"Hold up there, Scary. Wrong kind of baton," Star said releasing his hand, waving it back and forth in front of him, giving a laugh as if she had just heard a funny joke. "I'm talking about the kind a drum majorette uses."

"Then explain your meaning," he demanded, not liking that she seemed to be laughing at him.

"I mean the kind of baton that is used for fun. The kind that you twirl. My older sister was a drum majorette in high school, so I used her baton and learned a few simple moves," Star said removing the bag from her shoulder, placing it on the ground, and taking a few steps back down the path to give a bit of space. She then lifted her arm and began to rotate the rod quickly, a single pass over and under her arm.

Then she changed the pattern, making her arm move up and down as it passed over and under, doubling the move. She then easily shifted so that the rod was now spinning like a tire. He was fairly impressed with the movements that she was able to do. His training had not consisted of anything like what she was doing as it was not effective in a fight. What she was doing was more fun.

"I'd toss it up, but it'll just hit the trees," Star said as she stopped the spinning and stepped forward to pick her bag back up off of the ground. Taking a step back over towards him, she reached out and took his hand into hers. "If we find a clearing, I'll show you."

"What you were doing was not part of my training. Maybe I can show you how _I_ learned to use a baton," he said starting back down the path again.

"Maybe I should show _you_ how to do what _I_ can do," Star said giving him a soft bump with her body against his. "It's like what you did with the knife, but on a longer scale."

"If we have time, maybe," he said, seeing the first evidence of the lake not far ahead of them now. He was looking forward to the rest of the day even more now, he realized.


	19. Star's Sniping Lesson

**Song: _The Sound of Silence_ by Simon & Garfunkle**

* * *

Star was a bit surprised when they finally reached the lake that she had no idea even existed. It was a good size, giving an open view to the far side, which is where she guessed that Scary would be aiming his big gun towards. The clearing at the edge of the lake also had a small boat tied to a tree off to the side.

Scary was opening his bag and beginning to pull a couple of items out, so she put her own bag and the rod down close to his. It was brighter now that they were out from under the tree canopy she realized looking back to where they had come from. The path they had taken was almost a straight direction here, but she had noticed a couple of crossing paths as they walked and wondered where they went.

Scary was now walking in an area a few feet from the clearing, just inside of the tree line, scanning the ground. After a minute, he seemed satisfied with his selection of area and began to remove some of the debris from the ground, making a smoother area for lying on. Satisfied it was clear enough, he picked up a plastic tarp and spread it over the area. Next he took a blanket and placed it on top of the tarp. He saw her watching him and gestured for her to come over.

"Tell me why I just did this," he questioned her like a teacher would. Star actually thought about what he had done for only a moment before answering.

"The tarp keeps the wet ground from touching the blanket that will keep you warm?" she replied hoping that she was right.

Scary nodded his approval at her as he went back over to where he had laid the sniper gun down. He then moved it to the edge of the tarp closest to the clearing, giving him an open view to the far side of the lake. She had no doubt that he would be able to hit anything that he wanted at that distance. It seemed like a long ways away, but probably not to someone trained as he was.

For the next few minutes, Scary was focused on setting the gun up properly, positioning it just right and sighting something through the scope. He was lying down on the blanket, so she glanced around and spotted a fallen log off to the side of the clearing and sat down on it. Looking back over the area to where Scary was, she had a strange feeling come over her.

Watching him in what she now considered his environment, it was a very surreal sensation. This was the person responsible for numerous deaths, but she also realized that some of them were men like Kozlov, who she knew _needed_ to die. But she began to wonder about the others, did they deserve to die? HYDRA sure felt so.

Scary was a soldier, he did what he was ordered to do, and soldiers do not question orders, from what she had always heard. He had already said that this was what he knew, was trained for. Either way, what did it really matter? They were already dead, and she knew that very soon, she would be also. Then Scary would go back into the cold...

After a few minutes, Scary seemed like he had everything just the way he wanted it and called out softly to her, "Come over here, Star."

Getting up from the log, she went and sat down cross-legged next to where he was still lying down.

"I'm going to fire. This gun has been modified with a suppressor added to it so that it will not be loud, but you will still hear it fire. It will also have a recoil action. It is a semi-automatic, do you know what that means?" Scary asked, but she shook her head no, but she had heard the term before. "Once fired, the gun will automatically load another bullet into the chamber to fire."

Star then began to really get a good look at the weapon before her. It was all black, a scope on top as well as something on the barrel, probably what he had called a suppressor. There was no doubt that it was very menacing, and that was from just looking at it without having seen it in action. Looking back at him, she found that he had produced a small pair of binoculars from somewhere and was holding them out for her to take, which she did.

"Look at where the gun is pointing across the lake and find the tree whose leaves are a bit redder than the others. Do you see it?"

Star scooted over so that she was now right next to Scary, her hip slightly touching his right side. She took in how he was holding the gun, how he was supporting himself up, how he was slightly tilting his head to the right. Leaning her head over his body, she was able to see where the gun was pointing so she stared at the area as she brought the binoculars to her eyes. It only took a moment to focus them to be clear before she had the tree sighted.

"Got it," she said, not taking her eyes off of it.

"Now, look at the base, about five feet high, chest height," Scary said looking through the scope with his right eye, right arm bent to pull the trigger, close to her knee. "See that large mark from where a limb broke off some time ago?"

"Chest high for you maybe, but yeah, I see it," Star said now watching the spot intently.

"Keep looking at it. I'm going to make three shots. Three, two, one," Scary calmly counted down, for her sake she knew.

At the sound of the first shot, Star jumped only a little bit, even knowing what was coming. By shot two and three, she didn't move at all. The sound of the firings were not as bad as some that she had been around. The mark on the tree showed damage from the first shot, but she saw that the second shot was a couple of inches higher than the first while the third was a bit lower than the first. Scary had shot all three in an up and down line, seconds apart even with having to adjust for the movement of the gun.

"Far out, man," Star said, lowering the binoculars and giving him a big smile. Even though the mask was still covering his face, Star could see the corners of his eyes slightly gathered as if he were smiling, which he probably was.

"Does that mean the shots landing on the target was adequate?" he asked rolling over slightly onto his left side to get a better view of her, she realized.

"Adequate? That was _awesome_. Did you think I _wouldn't_ be impressed?"

"My Handler would not be. This distance is nothing compared to what I have been trained for," he stated, his eyes losing the smile they had as he talked.

She did not want him to start thinking about anything from the base. Even with the little she knew of it, there was no doubt it was not a good place.

"Well, I think the shots were really bitchin, and nobody else's opinions matter but mine today," Star said giving him a nudge on the arm with her hand.

She saw his eyes quickly change back to how they had been. Even with the black smudge on his eyes, the loveliness of them was able to shine through when he was happy, like right now.

"Ready to take a shot?" Scary asked, now moving a bit further over to the left, giving her room so that she could now lay down where he had just been.

" _Really_?" she asked not believing that he was going to let her.

"Only if you want to," he said, patting the area now waiting for her to take. Star looked out over the lake and quickly made up her mind.

"Hell yeah!" she said, moving to copy the way he had been when he took the shots.

"Then get into position," he said.

* * *

He watched as Star got into place, lying down behind his gun. As far as he knew, nobody else had ever fired his gun. During a training period, he had been given the opportunity to modify it to how he wanted, and unless someone had used it while he was under, she would be the only other person to fire it.

Oddly, he did not really have a problem with that, instead finding himself being eager to show her how to use it. At his question as to if she wanted to fire it, the smile that appeared on her face made him feel a bit warmer on the inside, like he had done something correct. He liked her looking at him like that.

The first thing that he noticed was that as soon as she was flat on the ground and she moved forward so that she could look through the scope, she automatically put her right eye up to it while moving her right hand to take hold of the trigger. She seemed to be very satisfied with how she had her body fixed.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked curious if his assumption was correct. He had been watching her handle the guns yesterday and had expected her to take a difference pose.

"Yeah," Star said wiggling her body only a little to get more comfortable.

"Don't put your eye directly on the scope, but look though it and find that same tree," he instructed, moving so that he was now lying down next to her, their bodies slightly touching. It only took a moment for her to answer.

"Got it."

"Make sure the butt of the rifle is firmly against your shoulder to catch the recoil. If you don't, it will jump back and hit you hard, leaving a bruise."

Star adjusted the gun against her shoulder only a little bit, having already moved so that she was accurately situated. He guessed that she must have been paying a bit more attention to how he had been positioned that he had originally thought. She had almost mimicked him precisely. The only shocking part was her eye dominance, which he was going to test in a little while.

Reaching over her, touching her back just slightly, he picked up the binoculars to use. Showing her how to sight onto the tree, he told her to be patient, take a breath and hold it as she pulled the trigger. Looking over the lake, he watched and waited as Star finally took the shot. It hit just above the mark, close to his own second shot. Star had held onto the gun firmly, preventing the recoil from hurting her. She had done very well.

"Did I get it?" Star asked glancing up at him with hope on her face.

"Yes, almost touching my second shot," he said, to which she gave a little squeal of joy.

"Sir, can I do it again?" Star asked hopeful.

"There are six shots left. I'll be your spotter and you take the shots," he said lying back down onto the blanket next to her, close enough so that they were definitely touching. As he got into position, he saw Star look over at him and give him a smile, one that he returned mostly because he knew that she could not see it.

Finding a couple of different targets across the lake, they made quick work of the rounds already loaded. Star gave a triumphant cry every time she was able to make the mark he had chosen, which was every time. He found the gesture cute, but not a very _practical_ sound for a sniper to make. If any soldier he was training had made such a noise he would have reprimanded them. But this was Star and they were just having fun.

Teaching her how to do it all herself, he had Star to remove the empty magazine, learn to load the large bullets in a staggered position, and reinsert and chamber a round. Overall she did well, while he found himself staring at her lower lip being bitten when she was trying to get something to work right. He was finding that noticing such little actions of hers like that was...a bit _distracting_.

It was just another thing for him to worry about at a later time.

While he was spotting for Star during her next shots, lying down right next to her, he felt her shift her body a bit and he felt her suddenly rest her foot over the back of his leg. Even though their heads were even while right next to each other, her foot touched the back of his calf from being slightly shorter than him. She didn't seem to notice that she was touching him as she took the shot without moving it, once again giving a triumphant cry.

"Are you always so warm?" she asked turning towards him.

"Yes," he stated, now knowing that she was fully aware of what she had done.

"Is there a reason?" Star continued.

"Yes. And no, I'm not going to tell you why," he said as he watched her mouth open, guessing her next question. Instead, she just stuck her tongue out at him before going back to look through the scope. "How about a snack then we do something else?"

"Cool idea. Snacks are in my bag?" Star asked sitting up, making her remove her leg from his.

"Yes," moving just enough to sit cross-legged as she had been earlier.

Standing up, Star headed over to the bags while he watched her bounce away. She really did seem to be enjoying herself. Except for the small trips out of the cabin, and not counting the run, this was the longest she had been outside since getting here. He was still a bit amazed that she was taking to learning how to shoot so easily, without complaining of the topic of choice. There were guards at the base who did not like having to go to the shooting range, and they knew what they were doing.

Star bounded back to the blanket, sitting down right next to him, putting the canteen between them while she opened one of the bags she had packed. She pulled out a towel with a couple of pieces of fruit on it for them to choose from. Removing his mask and lying it on the blanket, he partially brushed his hair out of his face to make it easier to eat.

"So, I'm guessing that a person doesn't just stay in the same spot like a tree will," Star said, selecting a pear and biting into it while she looked at him, waiting for a response.

"No, not usually. But there are many times when someone will be in the same spot for long periods of time, a favorite chair at home, or their desk at work. You have to know your target and be very patient while waiting for the right time," he said choosing an apple.

"Is that what you did with Kozlov?" Star asked looking up innocently at him.

"For the most part," he said, not revealing too much.

"You could tell me…" she pushed.

Star was actually curious about what he did, and it was not like she cared for the person he had eliminated. If anything, it might make her happy to hear of Kozlov's demise. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"I could see from my roost, the spot I had chosen, that he was getting drunk from the moment he arrived here. He was not going to be a problem. It was the guards that needed to be dealt with first. I took out the first one while he was standing at the stove. The others responded by going over to see what was going on. From there I was able to get them at a distance, especially when they tried to get out of the door. Not having a second entrance for them to leave by was foolish. I eliminated the last guy on the steps of the porch, after questioning him. Kozlov was passed out by the time I entered the house."

Star seemed to be listening to his account of the events carefully, not giving off any sign of emotion, and just taking bites from the pear.

"Sir, can I ask why you did not just kill me then?" Star was looking out over the lake, not at him as she asked the question.

"My mission statement was for Kozlov and his guards. Finding you was _unexpected_. You were not part of the mission."

"But now I am."

Star took another bite of the fruit, and he figured that she would be dropping the topic as the minutes went by and they ate in silence. When she spoke again, her words were simple and without emotion.

"During the weeks before coming here, Kozlov kept telling me over and over that I was going to die. How he was going to enjoy killing me. But he didn't understand. After the hell that he had put me through over the past few years, it didn't scare me. I was actually looking forward to it. Not the actual killing, but the part that meant I would _never_ have him _touch me_ again. Dying meant having peace. Death was going to be the reward for my suffering. I'm glad that he is dead. I only wish that it had been more painful for him. At the end, he was begging you for his life, begging you to not kill him, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

Star seemed to consider this looking out over the calm water as she took another bite. He could only stare at her, seeing her eyes growing cold as she talked, haunted by her words.

"Well, I'm not going to do that. He used to make me beg. _Beg_ him for food, _beg_ him to let me sleep, _beg_ him to stop whatever he was doing to me. He liked to punish me, telling me to beg him to touch me if I wanted him to stop. I'm sick of begging. I will not beg like he did. I will _not_ be the same as that bastard. I will be better than him."

Star then turned her head to look directly at him, a cold hatred over her face that he did not like seeing on her. But as she examined his face, seeing the blank expression he had put on while listening to her to hide his own growing depression at her words, he saw her face changing back to the one he had grown to know over the past few days. The one who did not seem scared of him. The one who kept talking to him like none of the other soldier at the base did.

The one who now seemed to be showing pity _towards him_. What was she thinking of to make her have that look?

Taking a final bite of her pear, Star rotated her body on the blanket so that she had a clear shot out over the water before throwing the core angrily, seeming to put all her strength into the pitch. Following her example, he bit then slipped the apple core into his left hand before propelling it at least three times the distance hers had gone.

As it splashed down, the entire lake area was assaulted with the sound of Star's heartfelt laughter.

"Show off."


	20. Chasing A Star

**Song: _White Rabbit_ by Jefferson Airship**

* * *

"See that tree over there," he said, pointing at the large pine's trunk, "Just hold the gun, take your stance and point the gun at it. Don't think about it."

Star looked at the gun he was offering, one of the pistols she had taken apart yesterday. Picking it up with her right hand, she gripped its handle. Tilting the gun slightly, she saw that he had taken out the loaded magazine. She put her right index finger on the trigger, wrapped her hand around handle, and put her left hand slightly underneath to help steady her aim.

He watched as Star then moved her body into her stance. Her left foot came forward while her right went behind her, rotating her body to the side slightly. She indeed held the gun so that she was sighting down her left eye.

"Walk three steps, turn and aim at this tree," he said, now pointing at a tree off to her right side. When Star had made the necessary moves, she was again in the same stance. "Interesting."

"How is pointing a gun interesting?" she asked, relaxing her stance to turn and look at him.

"It _is_ interesting. With the rifle, you used your right eye as your dominant one to aim, but with the pistol, you are using your left eye."

"So?"

"Normally, most people would only have one eye that you would use for both weapons. You, on the other hand, change eyes depending on the type of weapon you are going to use. You did it without thinking. I noticed as you were handling the guns yesterday that when you pointed it, you used your left eye," he said, taking a couple of steps forward so that he was next to her.

Opening his hand, he held out the loaded magazine for her to take. Star looked at it hesitantly but she reached out and accepted it. There was something about her that he almost would use the word trust to describe. Yes, he did trust her with the loaded gun…not worried that she would turn it on him. He had showed her yesterday what to do and now Star slipped the magazine into the handle, snapped it in place and pushed the safety off while aiming the gun at the ground before her.

"Now, this gun will have a little recoil, but with the suppressor on, you will not have to worry about it hurting your hearing. Take a couple of shots at that tree to get used to it," he said, pointing at another large pine not too far away, close enough for her to hit. Star began to get into her stance, but now that he had pointed out what he knew, he could see her fidgeting as she stood. "Don't think, just shoot."

Taking a deep breath and then holding it, Star then fired, followed a second later by another shot. Both of them hit the tree, chipping away chunks of bark, leaving the exposed wood from underneath. Looking down, he saw a smile slowly creeping onto her face. Since their talk while having a snack break, she had been a bit more closed off. He wondered if she regretted anything that she had told him.

"Not bad. Now, find a tree a bit further away, and take a few more shots," he told her, moving to stand right behind her. He examined her stance a bit better, curious as to how she was able to aim. His training had included the use of both eyes, but he found it too uncomfortable to do, so unless necessary, he always used his right eye. None of the other base soldiers had the ability that she had. If they were left eye dominant with a hand gun, they also were with the rifle.

After taking the couple of shots, Star moved to another tree even further away. It was as she made those shots that she began to have difficulty hitting her target. Finishing off the magazine, Star set the safety before offering him back the gun.

"It's ok, but I think that I like the sniper gun better," Star said with a slight tilt to her lips, like she was not impressed with the gun as he took it. He decided that she needed to see what the weapon was capable of. Moving into position, he took a calming breath, and then started the demonstration.

Popping out the empty magazine, he quickly slipped it into a pocket while removing another loaded one, snapping it into place in a fluid motion. As he was bringing the weapon up while taking aim at the first tree, he took the safety off. By the time he pulled the trigger, his shot was lined up.

In quick succession, he moved to the next three trees in line, each further away than the last. He repeated the movements, turn, aim, pull, until the entire magazine was empty. Only a couple of seconds had passed during this time. He then held the gun high, slid the now empty magazine free, letting it drop into his waiting palm and then slipped it into the pocket with the first one.

"Holy crap!" Star stated from where she had been standing right next to him watching his display. He liked that her expression was one of bewilderment. He didn't know why, but he liked the feeling it gave him while showing off for Star and her enjoyment at his actions. "How did you do that?"

"Practice," he said pulling another loaded magazine from his pocket, offering it and the gun back to Star. She looked back at the trees that he had just shot, as if still not believing, but she took it from him.

Loading the gun, Star took a step forward so that he was behind her, away from where she was aiming. Holding the gun pointed at the ground, Star looked at a couple of trees that formed an almost line. Making up her mind, she took the first shot, then moved down the line, taking the shots but at a much slower pace than he had. But she kept going, re-aiming when she did miss and trying again, not moving on until the tree was hit.

"Now, keep doing that for a couple of hours and you will see a great improvement when you are done," he said, offering her another loaded magazine.

"Is that what you did?" she asked, taking it from him and then slipping the empty one into the same pocket that he had been placing the others inside of herself. He stiffened as he felt her hand brush against his leg, not used to having someone do a simple touch to him. Usually it was either during a fight or the scientist and doctors performing a test.

"Yes, a lot. With many different manufactures of guns from different countries. During a fight, if you lose your weapon, or it runs out of ammo, you need to know how to use whatever weapon the enemy may be using. Same thing goes for knives," he told her, watching as she began the process of shooting again.

She hit more than she missed, and made little disapproval sounds when she did miss. It was another thing that he found distracting about her.

Star did practice until she ran out of magazines for that gun, improving some in his opinion, then she requested that they go back to the sniper rifle. Instead, he suggested that since it looked to be about noon from where the sun was resting in the sky, that they take their lunch break. That really got him a smile from her.

Grabbing the other items that she had packed, they sat back down on the blanket, Star facing the water, while he was able to look down the path towards the house. He knew that there were no other paths for anybody to come from around the lake, so if anyone appeared, it would be from that direction. He knew that there was little chance, and that Star had no idea why he was facing that way, but it was part of his training.

Star rested three sandwiches in front of him, along with a plastic bowl of raw vegetables that she had cut up into small pieces. They ate together, just enjoying being there, not having to worry about anything right now.

"Is there anything back at the house like a grill or somewhere to make a fire outside?" Star asked about half way through her one sandwich.

"There is something behind the guard's house that may work. Why?" he asked starting his second sandwich.

Star must have noticed that he had yet to eat any of the vegetables because she used her foot and nudged the container a few inches closer to him. Giving her one of his best intimidating faces, understanding what she wanted, she only stuck her tongue out at him before pointing at the vegetables.

"There are a couple of steaks that I can cook, and steaks should always be cooked outside over an open fire. There is no other way to cook them, so don't even try to prove me wrong," Star stated firmly, finishing off her sandwich and taking a drink from the canteen. He thought about her words for a while before answering.

"The temperature has not risen today, and the sky is a bit cloudy. This would be the day to do something like that. I'm not sure what the weather is going to do over the next few days," he informed her, picking up a single carrot stick and eating it, giving him an approving nod from Star.

"I'll cook all of them then. I know you'll eat a couple at least, Scary. But we can put the rest in the fridge and have them later as a meal. Or maybe in your case, as a snack."

"Are you saying that I have a problem with food?"

"So you _are_ smarter than the average bear," Star taunted him while poking around in the brown bag that she had pulled the sandwiches out of.

She was full of strange comments.

"I do not have a problem with food. I just require more to sustain myself than a normal person would. That is not a problem, it's just a necessity," he said resolutely finishing off the final sandwich, but then pushing away the bowl of vegetables, back towards where Star was sitting.

"You better eat those," she demanded with her firmest voice, reminding him of a mother to a child.

"No," he sounded angry, but it did not have the meaning behind it.

"Fine," Star said standing up, holding out a wadded towel that she had pulled from the bag to display it for him, "Then you aren't getting any of these."

"What is that?" he asked a bit hesitantly, curious now as to what Star was up to. He had not requested anything else to be packed so he had no idea what she was holding.

"Oh, nothing, just some Turkish Delights," Star informed him, turning and beginning to walk away from him, towards the trail that they had arrived here on. He then saw her open the towel up, take a single piece of the sweets, making sure to hold it high so that he could get a good view of it and place it into her mouth, giving a loud moan of pleasure at the taste of it. "Guess I will have to eat all of it by myself."

Now, that statement had him moving.

As he began to rise, Star suddenly bolted down the path letting out what he could only describe as an evil laugh. He then took off after her. He could tell that she was doing this on purpose, teasing him again, not like the other time when she had actually been scared of him and ran. Star was looking where she was going, but every so often, she would glance over her shoulder to see how close he was.

He did not try to put a great effort into catching her, knowing that he was still much quicker than she was. When he had closed the distance by about half, Star suddenly turned to the left, heading down one of the side paths that began to circle the perimeter of the house. The underbrush was a bit thicker off of the lake path, but he could still see her not far ahead. Star was still laughing as she ran, enjoying herself.

"You must not want these that badly if you can't catch me, Scary," Star yelled loudly making sure that he could hear her taunt.

With that statement, he decided to show her what he could do.

When she looked over her shoulder another time as she reached a straight span of path, he put on a quick burst of speed, eliminating the gap as she watched, which caused a shriek to emanate from her. Turning her head to look back at where she was going, Star never saw him give the final steps necessary for him to reach her.

Her braided hair was still being held up under the wool cap that he had given her, showing him a clear view of the delicate back of her neck. Gently grabbing onto the back of her shirt at her neck with his real hand, letting his fingers slide over Star's skin, he felt her body begin to slow down at the realization that she was caught.

* * *

Spotting the wide tree trunk only a few more steps away, Star slowed her steps aiming her body towards the tree to use it to force her into a stop. She felt Scary's hand still touching the back of her neck, proving that he had won the competition she had started them on.

When her body to come to a stop against the tree, she turned around so that she was facing him. As she did so, she found that Scary was not releasing his clasp, but instead he was now holding onto the back of her neck with his right hand, standing directly in front of her, while his thumb was gently touching the side of her neck.

She was out of breath, panting heavily while smiling, but as Scary stood there looking down at her, she could see that his breathing had not even altered. The run had not even been exercise to him. She could feel the heat coming off of his hand, his flesh hand touching her exposed skin, so warm in the cold air. The look that he was giving her was not formed from being angry at her stunt. But he was giving her a cocky, sinister smile that amazed her, which really, any kind of smile from him was unbelievable.

As she looked up at his darkened smeared eyes, with his hair hopelessly falling into his face, she could not believe that she was not frightened of him. In fact, she was not sure _what_ it was that she was feeling, it had been so long, but it was definitely _not_ fear.

Scary then placed his left arm onto the tree trunk right next to her head, his body now encasing her against it, but not in a way that worried her. He was standing close, so close, so that as her chest raised to take a deep breath, she was slightly touching his own. The warmth coming off of him was comforting. There had been times when she was pinned similar to this, but with Scary, this was different, not threatening.

"Can I help you with something?" Star asked not taking her eyes from his. She could see that his pupils were slightly more dilated than normal, hiding some of the stormy blue, but she had no idea what that meant. Excited from the run maybe?

"I believe that you have something that I want," Scary whispered in a low menacing tone, but he still retained the unusual smile…smirk?

When she had started to run, she had tucked the sweets into her pocket, figuring that with her luck she would drop them. Reaching into her pocket, Star pulled out a single piece of sweet, bringing it up between them as it was held with her thumb and forefinger for him to see. She didn't know if what she was about to do was reckless, it _would_ be interesting though.

"Do you mean this, Scary?" she said slightly rotating it, still focusing on his eyes trying to hide behind the dark strands. Star realized that his own never even looked away from her own eyes, not once looking at the item being held out for him to see.

"Yes," he gave as a simple answer, but only after a few seconds longer than she thought it would take him.

With his reply, Star then took the opportunity to plunk the piece into her own mouth, giving him a grin as she began to chew.

Scary's eyes then narrowed intently and finally dropped from her own, but now, they were focusing on her lips. She noticed a slight change in his stance, a bit more relaxed, as well as a different kind of confidence. Not the kind in his abilities like he had been doing all day, but something else she had not seen from him yet.

"Nope. You didn't eat your vegetables," Star said while reaching into her pocket and pulling out another piece, this time holding it between her first two fingers.

Lifting it up so that he could see it, Star then began to move her right arm towards her mouth, intending to tease him by eating this piece also.

But before she could get the piece inside, Scary quickly reached out with his right hand, releasing her neck so that he could grasp her wrist, much gentler than she had figured he would be, stopping it before she could finish the maneuver.

"I don't have to," Scary replied as his eyes moved upwards to once again focus on her own. Star could see that they were even more dilated than they had been a few moments ago. Also, his breathing had slightly increased although it had been normal just now. Star then felt his thumb begin to make a small circular movement over her pulse point.

That was when she realized what was happening to him. The teasing, the run, the closeness. The combination of all of it had stirred something in him, something that she had not intended to have happen, something she didn't think would happen. He had already told her that he didn't deal with females often, with none being at his base, and the others only as targets.

But from somewhere deep down, his body was naturally responding to this moment. He had never hurt her so she was not afraid of him in that way. But what could he do to her? There was nothing that he could do that would be worse than what she had done to her by Kozlov. And there was _no way_ that she would even be able to stop him if he wanted to take her.

Star was not sure how long they kept frozen in that position, but when they finally did move, it was not what she was expecting. Scary slowly began to lift her arm higher, pulling it closer towards him. She only broke eye contact with him as she recognized the feeling of lips on the tips of her fingers. Watching her fingers along with the sweet disappear into Scary's warm mouth, she sucked in her own breath.

As his tongue pulled the sweet from between her fingers, it then began to swipe over the tips, licking off the powdered sugar from them, before Scary moved her hand back as he firmly sucked the rest of the sugar off as her fingers emerged from his mouth.

Through all of this, Star felt a warm feeling stirring low down. She had not felt anything like this in years.

Hell, as she thought about it, she had _never_ felt like this. Not even _before_ Kozlov.

When Scary took a half step back from her, dropping his left arm to his side, she gathered that he must have realized what he had just done, such an intimate gesture. Her own lips had been slightly parted for a while now as her breathing had once again been increased, this time from a much slower activity than running. Star could only watch him as he looked down at her wet fingers, her wrist still being detained by his warm hand. He seemed to be studying her fingertips.

The impassive expression that then crossed over his face, erasing the playfulness that had been there, told her that the moment between them had passed.

Scary gradually released his grip, not giving away any sign of what he was now thinking. Did he regret what he had done? Did he want to do it again?

Star had no idea, but someone needed to do or say something...now.

Moving her hand slowly back to the pocket, this time Star pulled out the entire cloth, filled with the sweets. Scary carefully watched her, scrutinizing even the slightest movement of her body. Clearing her throat, because she knew that her voice would definitely catch in her throat, Star held the towel up between their chests, open so that he could see the contents.

"Ok, no more vegetables," were the only words that her mind could form into sounds to come out of her dry lips.


	21. Letting Off Some Steam

**Song: _All Along The Watchtower_ by Jimmy Hendrix**

* * *

"Let's head back to the lake. You can have a bit more practice with the rifle, if you want," he said, trying to steady his voice as he spoke to Star.

"Ok," she said, holding up the sweets for him to take.

As he stood there looking down at the offered items, he couldn't bring himself to take them.

"You keep them safe," he said, to which Star just nodded her head once before wrapping the towel back up and placing it into her pocket. She then began to walk back down the trail in the direction that she had fled from.

He began to walk behind her, keeping the distance between them at least a couple of feet, while his mind raced.

What had he just done?

Seeing her fingers there with the white sugary substance on them, there was something inside of him telling him what it wanted him to do. And for some reason, this time he listened to the voice, at first not comprehending what the gesture would mean.

As he had moved his tongue, the realization had finally dawned on his cloudy mind. The feel of her fingers, the feel of her body touching his, her skin under his fingers. The intimacy of close contact was not something that he had been trained for. Infiltration into crowds so that he could blend in, that he understood. One on one contact. This was new to him. Right?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a nagging feeling that it had felt so right to perform the action he had wanted to do to Star. When the look on her face changed as he had done so, he could not tell what she was thinking. It did not seem to frighten her, but how could it not? Star's breathing then began to speed up again, similar to how it had the other morning before she bolted. He was sure then that he had indeed spooked her, but instead, she had offered him the sweets and made a joke to ease the situation.

Thinking back on his training, he began to wonder if he needed to go back to his original assessment of needing to stay away from her as much as possible.

Maybe what he needed to was to go ahead and finish the mission.

As soon as he thought that, he found his hand sliding one of his best, sharpest knives quietly from the sheath. Star was walking steadily only a few paces in front of him. She was not even looking behind her to see if he was following, or what he was doing.

Grasping the hilt of the knife so hard that his right hand was beginning to hurt, he thought about how he could so easily eliminate her. A slice over her throat and she would bleed out in a matter of minutes. Reach around her chest with an upward motion to avoid the ribs to puncture her heart. A precise strike through the ear to the brain.

Any of these actions and he would not have to worry anymore about how she was interfering with his mission…no, with him. He could think of the motions to strike, but as he pictured her lying on the ground injured with any of these wounds, it left him with a foul feeling in his chest. It was not her fault that his training had not taught him how to deal with handling a female presence for so long.

He had already told Star earlier that she had a few more days, and that she could leave her information for the authorities. If he struck her down now, that would mean that he had lied to her. That thought also brought on another round of foul feeling. He would not do that to her. This was not the time...not yet.

When Star was about to reach the turn in the trail back towards the lake, he carefully slipped the knife back where it needed to stay. He did not want her to possibly see with the corner of her eye that he had taken the knife out. She would know what it meant, and for some reason, putting the knife away made his tightened chest feel much better.

"It's getting a bit darker," Star said, when they finally made it back to the lake. They had remained silent during the entire walk.

"The weather is changing. We have some time, though," he said to her as she began to clean up the remains of the lunch bags from the blanket. He really felt like he needed to do something, so figuring that shooting was the next best thing, he headed over to his own bag and pulled out a couple of pistols. He also pulled out a box of ammo for his rifle, lying it down next to the gun. "I am going to head over there," he said, pointing in a direction to the side of where they were stationed, "to practice with these. There is plenty of ammo if you want to use it. I will not be far. Do _not_ approach where I am! Do _not_ leave this area! If you do…"

He could not bring himself to say the actual words, but from the nod and look that he received from Star told him that she understood the implications. Picking up the two bags of weapons to take with him, it would leave Star with only the sniper rifle to use.

Giving Star the ability of getting access to the rifle was not something that he was worried about as a real concern. She may be able to take a shot at a steady target, but he would be moving, and she would never be able to make that shot, not like he could. But now, he began to wonder if she knew that he had just considered killing her, if she would try and defend herself. Any other human would, so therefore, so would she, he wagered.

Stalking out through the woods, he headed far enough away so that if Star were to call out for him that he would be able to hear her. Not that he expected her to. And right now, he _really_ need to hit something.

* * *

Star watched as Scary began his trek through the underbrush, leaving her alone and feeling quite vulnerable. This was a different kind of alone than when he went out for his morning surveillance of the house. Being inside the house was at least a bit comforting. But being out here, listening to the sounds of the woods, her mind began to wander to all of the horror movies that she used to like watching, as well as the books she would read. It may be a bit chilly, but at least there was no fog today.

No fog meant that nobody could creep up on her. The dry leaves on the ground would make lots of noise if someone, or something, walked on them. Nobody had come to investigate the sounds of their gunfire from earlier. There were no satanic-possessed children wandering around, or town's people who wanted to burn a sacrifice alive. Even the birds were a bit scarce, probably due to flying south.

"Stop it," Star said aloud to herself. "Less Stephen King, more _Rocky Horror Picture Show_." With that, she began to hum the only part of the 'Time Warp Dance' song that she could remember, over and over.

Eyeing the general direction that Scary had gone, she tried to find him through the bushes, but he seemed to have walked a bit further than she had hoped he would. Slowing spinning in a circle while she stood on the blanket humming, Star checked her surroundings to make sure she was still alone. Unfortunately, yes she was.

How could this be upsetting to her? Years had gone by where there were plenty of times that she had wished for something just like this, but now that it was really happening, it frightened her. Why? It's not like Kozlov was going to get up and come for her. That thought sent a shiver down her spine. Scary was only a short distance away, more than she suddenly wanted him to be, but he was not going to leave her here.

That was when she heard the first shot. Turning her head in the direction it seemed to come from, Star focused her attention on the dark woods. Taking a step forward, her foot hit something, making her look down. The binoculars. Picking them up, Star held them to her face, adjusting them until they were in focus. Panning left to right very slowly, she finally saw movement.

Spotting Scary, who had once again placed the mask over his face, who was adjusting the gun in his hand in some way, she maintained contact with his form as he seemed to finish whatever he was doing. He was far enough away so that she was able to get a wide view of his surroundings.

Suddenly, Scary took off in a run, heading with determination at a target. He did a rolling maneuver over the ground to come up right at the base of a pine tree, about the diameter of her arm, before punching with his left arm at his chest height, making contact with the tree. Star could not believe that as his fist hit, it continued to move through the tree.

With her mouth dropped open in shock, she watched as the tree began to topple over after being split into two, as if he had just snapped a pencil. It was a couple of seconds later before the sound of the event finally cleared the distance between them to reach her ears. She had never heard a sound like it before.

While she had been watching the tree fall, Scary had continued on with his assault on the forest. Turning the binoculars to find him again, Star watched as he pulled a weapon from off of his upper back and began to fire as he ran through a close grouping of trees, avoiding them as insignificant obstacles. The shots that she witnessed eventually met her ears as he continued on. After emptying three guns, digging two knives up to their hilt into helpless trees, and a very impressive leap over a boulder, Scary seemed to have worked some of the energy he had out of his system.

When he began to pull the knives out of the trees using his left hand, Star knew that she had seen enough. She had never doubted his skills, but after seeing what he was capable of, compared to what he had done at the house to Kozlov and his men, taking them out seemed almost like child's play.

Dropping the binoculars down onto the blanket, Star sat down behind the rifle and released the empty magazine. She let her mind wander over the sight that she had just seen as she began to reload so that she could take a couple of more shots. Not paying attention, she did not notice the snake that was making its way across the blanket towards her body heat until it was only a few feet away.

From the corner of her eye, the slithering movement registered in her brain. Looking over, she saw the approaching creature. Inhaling heavily, Star then bit down on her tongue hard to stop herself from screaming out. Moving from a cross-legged sitting position to standing only took her terrified body a second. From there, she took a step back from where the snake was now getting closer to her. Tears began to fill her eyes as she fixed her eyes on it.

Another step back then Star was finally able to brake eye contact long enough to look around at the trees she was now surrounded by. To her right was some kind of tree that had lower branches that looked sturdy enough to support her, and even if they weren't, it did not matter right now.

Jumping up so that she could reach the lowest branch, Star swung her leg up and over the branch, pulling her body up onto a sitting position. She had not done anything like this since she had been on the playground years ago, she thought. Who knew that playing on the monkey bars would be useful?

Glancing down at the ground, she watched as the snake, about three feet long, black with a stripe, made its way to the rifle and began to touch its head to the item, its tongue quickly swiping at it. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she hated that seeing a single snake could do this to her.

"Eww," Star groaned as a disgusted shake moved over her entire body as the snake then began to slink over the handle. There was no way she was touching that gun again, _ever_! The snake then proceeded to slither over the top of the weapon, balancing itself as it moved down the barrel, which was when she made the decision to never leave the house again. She didn't care what Scary threatened to do to her, there was _no way_ she was setting foot in these woods again!

Star watched as the snake made its way over the weapon, down to the ground, before turning back and sliding itself underneath the warm blanket. When she did not see it emerge from another corner, she knew that the tree was going to be her new home for quite a while.

Over the next half hour while listening to gunfire and trees cracking, she made herself comfortable by leaning back on the trunk and throwing her left leg over another close limb to help steady her body from falling. Overall, she decided, if it wasn't for the cold wind that swept through the area every once in a while, her new home would not be that bad. She knew that if she were to call out for Scary that he would come, but she also could tell that after the incident earlier, he needed to work some stuff out. And the poor trees were taking the blunt force trauma.

Listening to the leaves rustling together in the wind, Star found the sound soothing enough that she eventually closed her eyes. She was not sure how long had passed before she was startled from her reverie.

"Star!" Scary yelled out, his tone leaving no doubt that it was demanding an answer.

It was the suddenness of the sound that shook her from her half slumber, making her cry out as she tried to hold herself steady, grabbing the limb to prevent herself from falling face first to the ground. The panicked sound that left her gave away her position to him. As she looked down, Scary turned his head to look up at her. He then began to move towards her, coming into close contact with the blanket as he spoke, "What are you doing up there?"

"Stop! There is a snake under the blanket!" she exclaimed, pointing at the object as if he didn't know where it was located. He did stop but only once he got close enough so that he could pick up the corner of the blanket, pulling it away from the ground so that it covered where the rifle and ammo sat on it.

"Don't get near it!" Star's voice was shaky, and she gripping the tree so tight her hands hurt.

Sure enough, the snake had curled into a small coil in the dead center of the blanket's area, trying to stay warm. But now that his new resting spot had been disturbed, it began to move away from the exposed cold chill it was now receiving to find a new spot.

* * *

He took a moment to stare at the creature that was petrifying Star before turning his sights back at her, hovering in the tree with fear dripping off her voice like he had never heard from her. This was not a small fear like some people had, this was a type of pure terror.

"It's just a harmless rat snake," he informed her, calmly picking up a broken limb from the ground and using it to shoo the creature away from their area, further into the woods where he had just come from.

"A snake is a snake, don't care if it's poisonous or not!" Star firmly stated, not moving from the tree. If anything, she was now gripping it tighter since the creature had been exposed.

"Venomous, not poisonous," he stated at her wrong comment.

"What?" Star asked bewildered at his words, slightly moving her head to the side so that she could watch and make sure that the snake was moving further away.

"Snakes are venomous because they inject toxins with their fangs. Poisonous items must be digested," he said, walking behind the snake continuing to move it further away from Star.

"Wellll, excuuuuse me, Professor Scary," Star said drawing out the first two words in a strange, _very_ patronizing tone before slumping back down into the same comfortable position she had been in before he had shown back up.

After forcing the snake a good distance away, he made his way back, watching Star sitting in the tree with her arms folded over her chest like she was angry. He had only stated the truth, so why was she mad? Then it came to him what was probably going on.

"Tell me," he demanded, coming to a stop on the ground next to her.

He found it funny that she was not really that high up. Reaching up he could easily touch her leg, but with the surrounding trees, she had been hidden behind the foliage from where he had been standing when he had come back. That was why he had suspected that Star had made a run for it when he had returned. He knew that it was not going to be a pleasant story, so he took a seat on the ground, leaning back on Star's tree. Glancing up, he could easily watch her.

"Everyone has at least one fear, or so I've heard, but when Kozlov discovered my fear of snakes, he found the worst way to use it against me," her words stopped, hesitating from the memory. He heard her take a couple of breaths before she could continue.

"He took me to a warehouse where he conducted a lot of business. It had large, wooden crates that were used to ship stuff everywhere. Kozlov had his guys find one that was about my size and cut a couple of holes on the top panel. He then had put me inside, lying down, before nailing the box shut. At that time, I didn't know what was going on. I thought it was just another one of his ' _things'_ he liked to do. But after a few minutes, I saw the first snake coming through a hole. I can still remember the sound of his laughter from my screams and crying. And begging. Begging with him to let me out...which only made him put _more_ snakes inside the box. When he eventually let me out, hours had passed. I had screamed so much that I lost my voice for the next few days and my fingers were bloody and covered in splinters from trying to scratch my way out."

He knew that his own face had paled while listening to Star talk about what had happened to her. Every time she told him something about Kozlov's cruelty, it made the previous story seem tame. That was what had happened to her fingertips, to remove any viable prints to confirm her identity. She had done it to herself, clawing uselessly at the box. How was this girl still able to be joking and teasing him all the time? He knew grown men that would have lost it long before this.

He also knew that, as of now, this field trip, as Star had called the outings, was over. Standing up he began to breakdown their spot, rolling the blanket and tarp up, putting them into the bags. Loading all loose ammo, magazines and shell casings, as well as Star's metal bar, he made sure there was nothing left on the ground to indicate they had been there.

Picking up the rifle, he reattached the carry strap that had been removed earlier so they could fire it, then leaning it up against Star's tree. Looking over the area one last time and satisfied with its cleanliness of evidence, he stepped over to stand right next to where Star was watching him.

"Come on down," he demanded so that she knew he was serious, and that it was not just a suggestion. Star began to move, but as she was about to drop to the ground, she held hanging to the branch and searched the terrain. She was making sure no other snakes were around. When her feet finally touched the earth, he picked up the rifle. "Lift your left arm."

Star did so and he then looped the weapon around her so that it then rested across her back. Then he turned around so his back was to her, crouched down a bit and gave another command, "Get on."

Star did not hesitate if she thought it was a strange thing for him to do. Her fear of snakes overrode anything else that could possibly bother her right now. Her thin legs quickly wrapped around his waist to hold her in place while her arms went over his shoulders, but she held on towards his chest, not around his neck. When he was sure that she was settled, he pickup up the bags and began to walk them back to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Well, excuse me," line that Star gives to Scary is as originally spoken by Steve Martin. If you are not familiar with the famous line, look it up and then consider using that tone on Scary.


	22. Around The Campfire

**Song: _The Isle of the Dead_ by Rachmaninoff**

* * *

He carried Star all the way to where the path finally met the cleared yard area, that way she could be certain that there were no more snakes around. He was almost half way to his extraction time as of tomorrow morning, giving Star a closing-in deadline. She should not have to live in fear during that time like she had been. Easing her body down by sliding against his back, Star stood on the ground once again. He tried not to think about how nice it had been for her arms to be around him or the feel of her body against his. That was why he had been out destroying trees in the first place.

Entering the house, he began to organize the bags in the same corner that he knew Star could not reach with the leg chain on. He was undecided if she would really try to stop him by using a gun on him, especially now that she was more comfortable with them. She didn't really know of his abilities to be able to stop her, and if she did try anything, he would just have to kill her for the betrayal.

"Here," Star said to get his attention, which he turned around to see what she was doing. She had taken the magazine out of the rifle and he could see that the chamber was also empty. Star held out the magazine, which he took before she then placed the rifle on the large wooden mantle over the fireplace. "The heat from the fire won't hurt it, right?"

"No," he offered, seeing that the weapon fit nicely up there.

"Good. That way it's not near the door where it could slip and fall to the ground if the door is opened too hard," she told him, heading back into the kitchen. "So, rock, paper, scissors for who gets the shower first?"

"What?" he asked really not understanding that comment much more than some of her other ones.

"It's a game to help determine who gets or has to do something. Kind of a winner's choice for two people to figure out what to do," Star said, walking back over to him. Lifting up her hand, she made the shapes with her hands while explaining what they each meant and how they interacted with each other, the winner and loser of each grouping. "On three, you change your hand to one of the shapes. You will always have a winner and a looser using those three items."

"You shower first while I head outside to see about getting the fire going," he instructed her, feeling better at just saying what needed to be done.

"Fine, but you will clean yourself up before dinner time, and I don't just mean just washing your hands," Star said, making her way towards the bathroom.

When she stopped on the other side of the bed and turned to give him a look like she was waiting for something, then he understood that she was expecting for him to put the cuff on her since he was leaving the house. Making his way to her, Star then realized that she needed to get undressed before the cuff went on.

"Hold on a second," Star said, sitting on the bed and quickly removing the shoes and socks that she had been wearing. Once they were off, she stepped into the bathroom, letting the door close only mostly, leaving a large gap that he could see inside of if he tried. Soon, her bare, hair-free lower leg appeared through the available crack, giving him access to her ankle. Locking the device on, Star then closed the door and he heard the sound of the shower being turned on.

Heading back outside, he noticed that the sky looked even more overcast than it had at lunchtime. Behind the guard's house, there had been something on the ground that looked like a camp fire area. He had not cared about it before, since it did not figure into the mission, but now that Star had requested something similar to it to be able to cook on, he knew that this would work for her. He went to the shed and got the shovel so that he could get rid of the previous pile of ashes.

Inside the shed was a couple of concrete blocks and a metal grill that looked well used. The guards must have liked cooking outside also. Once the area was ready, he went over the wood pile and began to gather some of the smaller pieces of wood to make the fire. Dropping them on the ground he began to search around the edge of the clearing where tree limbs would fall.

Out of everything he had thought he _would be doing_ on this mission, making a fire so that someone could cook him steaks was another item to add to the growing _Not_ _Doing_ list. But the fact that he was actually looking forward to the event was also disturbing to him. Just like the incident earlier with her sweet fingers. He wasn't sure if he wanted this mission to be over or if he wanted it to keep going on. Why was he feeling so…he didn't even know what it was he was feeling. It was like he was missing something and trying to find it.

After he had enough twigs and limbs gathered to last for hopefully a long time, well after darkness descended tonight at least, he made his way over to the guard house once again. Without much effort, he was able to pull the old couch that was located inside out through the door and position it a couple of feet back away from the ring where the fire would be. Luckily there were only small drops of blood on the one side which had been closest to the door. There were old, metal chairs against the back of the guard house that were probably what the guards used, but he could tell from sight that they would not be comfortable to sit in at all.

Putting together the wood to get the fire ready to start once Star was ready, he sat back on the couch and looked at his work. There had never been any missions where he ever needed to build a fire, but looking at what he had created, there was no way for him to have made that without having done it a couple of times. The limbs and twigs were forming a standing triangle, with a larger log underneath for sustenance. It seemed so familiar but yet like a foreign memory.

Letting the cooling air wash over him, while trying to focus his thoughts, figuring that he had given Star plenty of time to shower, he finally made his way back inside to find her sitting on the bed, wearing two large t-shirts and a pair of socks. Off to the side of the bed was a pair of cotton pants as well as a small pair of boxer shorts to go underneath. He wondered what she would look like wearing only the boxers.

"If I can move to the kitchen, I'll get the steaks out and side dishes prepped so they can be cooked. Did you already start the fire?"

After the snake incident, he wondered if she was going to be willing to go back outside without him, but she did seem eager to cook over the fire.

"No, I was waiting until we were ready to head out to do that. No open fires without being supervised," he stated while removing the cuff.

Star gave him a cocky smile before poorly saluting him and saying, "Sure thing, Smokey Bear."

She had a lot of strange phrases.

He then noticed that Star had already brushed and braided her hair so that now, it was lying down her back. It usually took her a while to arrange her hair like that. How long had he been sitting outside?

Leaving the room so that she could finished getting dressed, he waited for her by the den cuff. When she emerged, Star came right over to him without complaint. Considering how well she behaved today, he almost considered allowing her this bit of freedom as she worked to feed him. But he would not jeopardize the mission by testing her this way, even with both doors locked.

"I won't be long," he informed her, turning to go to the bathroom while trying to not picture her bare legs.

"We got a little while, so take your time," she called out behind him as he shut the door, hoping the water somehow washed away these strange thoughts.

* * *

She had noticed how quiet Scary had been since she had finished her story in the woods. When he had pack the equipment up and then told her to get on his back, she did not hesitate due to the tone in his voice, but as he walked with purpose towards the house, she began to wonder why he would do that for her.

Since it was so late in the fall, she was not sure of the date, she had figured that all snakes would have gone into hibernation by now. She almost felt like the snakes being there was personal, that he just _had_ to frighten her one last time in her life.

Star took the six steaks out of the fridge and let them sit on the counter while she figured out what else to make to go with them. Scare struck her as a meat and potato kind of guy, so she grabbed a couple of large spuds and figured she couldn't go wrong with baked potatoes. There was some ears of corn that could be easily boiled. But after seeing the oranges and remembering that there was a can of pineapple and a jar of cherries, she figured on making something sweet for Scary as a thank you for today. It had been so long since she could remember being happy.

Everything was prepped before Scary emerged from the bedroom, dressed in normal clothes that made her have a hard time looking away from him. The sweats he wore were a little too small, as was the dark red t-shirt, and unfortunately, it was in a good way. The military boots looked a little out of place, but they were going to have to walk outside soon and they were his only pair of shoes.

Too bad he didn't have some sneakers, she thought. Not that Scary needed any more help with sneaking.

Scary walked over to her standing in the kitchen and with a word, released her leg so that she could move around again. He didn't speak, or even look at her, it seemed, before he walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the box of matches along with some of the paper stored for helping to start the fires. Collecting the items, he walked over to the edge of the counter near the back door, placing the items down.

"Ready?" he plainly asked, still not looking at her. Was he mad at her? His voice didn't sound like he was, but Scary was a lot more difficult to judge than most people.

"Yeah," she could be quiet too, if that was what he wanted. Maybe whatever had gotten to him earlier when he had done his tree destruction thing was still bothering him.

She followed him outside empty handed knowing that until the coals were hot, nothing could go on whatever fire setup there was.

When they rounded the corner of the building, Star stopped in her tracks. Expecting only a basic grill but finding a campfire with a raised cooking grate, with a couch for them to sit on, was too much.

"Wow."

"What?" he asked, stopping to look at her finally.

"This is great," she realized that there was only a bit of wood, but with how the atmosphere of the area was, an idea came to her. "I'll be right back."

Rounding the house to the wood pile, she got as many logs as she could carry, hoping that he went along with her idea. Star knew that most of the time he didn't care too much what she did, as long as it didn't interfere with the mission. This should not, at all. Heading back to the fire, she dropped the wood on the opposite side from the couch, so they wouldn't have to walk around it, and then made another trip for even more.

Scary was starting the fire by lighting the paper when she returned from the second trip. She guessed he had waited until he knew what weird thing she was doing now. Standing close to Scary as he worked, she noticed that it was almost dark by now. The sun was setting very early now, so by the time they were ready to eat, it will have been dark for some time. That actually would work out fine, she figured. A warm campfire without having to stay up too late. Maybe tomorrow he would let her sleep in since he had mentioned that something was up with the weather.

As the fire began to take to the wood and grow in size, they sat on the couch next to each other in silence, watching and waiting for it to be ready, but she felt the smile cross her face. It had been so long since she had been camping and had a real outdoor fire like this.

Every year her family would take a vacation during the fall break in school. They would drive to the mountains to spend a long weekend in the woods, hiking trails, playing in waterfalls, and making s'mores at night around the campfire while telling ghost stories.

By the time she became a teenager and started high school, spending time with her family like that was more of a drag. She wanted to hang with her friends, go to parties, and have real fun. Right now, what she would give to have been able to have one more family trip.

The wind began to pick up, changing from chilly to actual cold. Moving through the trees, with night falling, something about it gave her that creepy feeling again, and not the good kind from Scary. He seemed to notice the change also, standing up and looking around, surveying the woods as if looking for something.

Since Scary never seemed to focus in on anything, she guessed that he was just nervous. And he didn't even watch scary movies. Star had come outside without the jacket she had been using earlier and now, losing Scary's extra body heat from being beside her, her entire body shivered from the cold...at least she hoped it was the cold.

"I'm going to get the stuff," Star told him, moving back towards the house while Scary still looked around. She didn't hear anything, but the wind whipping every once in a while. Maybe he was just on alert because it was basically night time.

Inside, she first grabbed the coat, putting it on and zipping it up tight. Looking around the bedroom, she found the hat he had given her today and put it on also. Coming back out of the bedroom, she found Scary looking around the inside of the house. _Now_ he was starting to worry her.

"Is something wrong?" she whispered, looking around trying to figure out what he was searching for that she wasn't aware of.

Standing still, she waited until he finally spoke before moving again.

"No, nothing," he stated firmly, but something in his posture didn't feel right. There was no reason to not take him at his word.

As she then went to the kitchen and grabbed the large plate with the raw steaks, Star headed back outside, leaving the door slightly cracked, figuring Scary would be right behind her. Realizing that they didn't have a table to work with, she put the plate on the couch and headed back to the house to get one of the kitchen table chairs to use.

As she got to the back door, she saw that Scary was at his gun bag, pulling one of his large knives from it, as well as her 'baton'. Stopping, she watched as he slipped the knife behind his back. Hiding behind the door so that he didn't know that she had seen, she counted to five before entering the room. By then, he had moved over to the fireplace to add a log to keep it going while they were outside.

Maybe he was just being paranoid…assassins were supposed to be paranoid, right?

Grabbing one of the chairs made her receive a look of questioning from him, to which she replied, "Work area, kind of."

They both headed back out and for the next half hour, worked the fire until Star felt it was ready for cooking over. Scary had handed her the 'baton', but with him in the strange mood he was in, she just laid it up against her side of the couch, out of view. He did seem to finally calm back down from his heightened attention to the woods.

Scary watched her work but she figured he had never done anything like this so she didn't ask for help. It was pretty easy stuff anyways. The waiting, while smelling it all cook, was the worst. She still ran inside to deal with the corn boiling and potatoes cooking in the oven, but Scary never moved from the spot he seemed to have claimed on the couch, sitting so that his left arm was on the armrest.

"Dinner," Star finally broke the quiet with what she considered the most important word spoken today.

She was a bit surprised when Scary picked up the plate she intended to carry everything in on and held it out so that she could use both hands to get the food on it. While he carried the food, she grabbed the kitchen chair.

After getting back to the house, Star started to sort the food while Scary disappeared back outside. Curious, she walked out of the door and strait across the grass until she could see that he was putting a log on the fire to make sure it stayed going while they ate. He had figured out what she wanted to do later, it seemed.

Running back inside, she had everything fixed on the plates before he returned. He still didn't seem to be in a talkative mood, so they ate in silence. She had become used to not speaking for days when it suited Kozlov. He liked her either quiet or screaming, total opposites.

When they were done, Star took the plates and began to wash everything quickly, looking forward to heading back to the fire. Scary stayed sitting at the table while she worked to get ready. Putting the three steaks they had not eaten in the fridge, she looked around and decided it was time to head out.

Walking over to the couch, she gathered two of the blankets in her arms before heading to the back door and starting to stare at him, giving her best impatient look. Scary stood up from the chair and followed her without a word, without a question, without a complaint. The best that she could have hoped for.

When they had reached the outside couch, Scary put another log on the fire after removing the blocks and grate off to the side, before taking the same spot he had been sitting at earlier. She dropped one blanket next to him while putting the other one on his lap, which got her another strange look. Holding up one finger, she ran back to the house, gathering up the two chopped, mixed-fruit filled bowls, with spoons, and heading back outside.

Scary had not moved from the spot, not worrying about whatever strange thing she was doing. Maybe he was getting use to her weirdness, but she doubted that he had figured out what she was trying to do for him. Holding one of the bowls, out for him to take, he hesitantly glanced at it before taking it.

Once her hand was free of dealing with his bowl, Star grabbed the blanket off of the couch and sat down next to him. Being able to only use one hand, it took her a minute to get the blanket spread across her legs. When she was done, looking over next to her, she found Scary just watching her, ignoring the treat in his hand.

"Stop being so nosy and just eat," Star sighed, lifting her own spoon up, taking a bite of the sweet mixture. She had made sure to add a little sugar to the mix after seeing how much he liked sweet stuff.

Once he took the first bite, she had to force herself to not watch him devour the rest of the bowl, but it was so fun to. In no time they had both finished off their desserts, with Scary loudly sipping at the juice at the bottom, drawing her attention and making her eyes go wide. Who would have thought that an assassin would loudly slurp?

Being done, they both placed the bowls on the ground at their feet. Scary had put on a couple of more large logs while she had been inside getting their desserts, and now the fire was very large and very warm, so much that she removed the blanket from her legs and she was still warm enough.

Figuring that since Scary did not really interact with people, she figured that maybe he didn't know what to talk about. So, she decided that maybe he needed her to start up the conversation.

"So, how do you feel about ghost stories?" Star asked, curling her legs up on the cushion and leaning her left arm over the back of the couch to look at Scary. Thinking about how he may take that statement, she smiled at him saying, "Real ghost stories…not you."


	23. Day Five - Falling Asleep Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the chapters where I would recommend listening to the song while reading.  
> Song Version - The Simon and Garfunkle version would be the one they would have listened to, but I like the remix by Hidden Citizens (YouTube) which is very haunting and sounds so much better with this chapter.

**Song: _Hazy Shade of Winter_ by Hidden Citizens***

* * *

He knew that it was getting late, hours after they had come back outside to enjoy the fire, but he did not want to move. Star had asked him how he felt about real ghost stories, to which he had no true answer for her. Star had then tried to entertain him by telling different ghost stories that she knew but, on him, it was a pointless gesture. He didn't tell her that, he just let her keep talking, her trying to scare him.

Eventually, she just started talking about random things, movie plots that she remembered seeing, places she had been, things that she had done, something funny from when she had been in school. Star had even explained some of the quotes she had said previously, describing how they had come about.

He had sat there quietly, listening to the sound of her voice as it drifted on the cold wind, making him feel a bit calmer than he had earlier in the evening once they had first come out. There had been nothing out of the ordinary to catch his attention, but he just felt like he needed to be on guard. It was not somehow he usually felt, that was how he was supposed to make others feel. But he was not going to leave Star to check the area, not alone in the cold. So he had gotten a knife, to be prepared. But nothing had eventually happened, except for one squirrel jumping from one tree to another, causing a delightful sounding scared squeal emerge from Star's petite lips, after scaring herself with her own story.

When he chuckled at the small jump she had given, she had reached over and poked his leg, those same lips turning into an alluring pout. Luckily, before he could lean over and run his fingers over them, to see if they were as soft has he thought they may be, she had begun talking once again. Distracting his mind back away from the flawed feelings that had once again crept up on him.

Now, however, Star had finally fallen asleep. On the couch. Leaning nicely against him. He had carefully watched her as the fire began slowly dying down, her eyes taking longer and longer to open back up when blinking. She would try to hide her yawns by lifting the blanket to partially cover her face, finding the move cute. He knew that she was getting tired, but she refused to allow the day end by letting herself move from the spot next to him. But when she finally lost the battle, Star slipped not only off to sleep, but she also slipped down the couch towards the left, her body landing softly against his side.

Looking down at her sleeping form, he felt her adjust every once in a while so that she found a comfortable position against him. Pulling the blanket some, he adjusted it so that it covered how her body had fallen. He had then lifted his right arm up and put it over her shoulder to rest it along the edge of her slim form. The temperature had dramatically dropped over the past couple of hours as he allowed her to sleep beside him.

With the heat from the fire mostly gone, and the blanket only helping so much, he knew that she was getting most of her warmth from him. Right now, he did not mind at all. But it was now to the point where he needed sleep more than continuing to delight in her contact with him.

Carefully adjusting his body so that he was able to support her enough so that Star did not wake, he stood up and slipped his left arm under her knees and put his right arm around her shoulder so that he could gently carry her inside. The blanket was not wrapped around her well enough to stay in place, and as he began to move, it fell to the ground, exposing her to the cold night.

As he slowly walked across the yard without jostling her, Star's body began to shake and her teeth chattered away from the cold night air much quicker than he had thought it would take. Before he reached the door, the words left her mouth.

"Master, please let me out," she breathed barely louder than a whisper.

The same words at the other morning when she had been cold. Now, he was curious as to where this phrase came from. Slowing down to an almost stop, he leaned his head forward so that his mouth was right next to her ear, almost touch it.

"Where are you?" he barely whispered, wondering if this type of interrogation would work.

"Freezer," she quietly replied, not seeming to wake up at all.

Hearing that word made something inside of him twist.

"Where is Master?" whispering the term she had used for Kozlov.

"Ballet," her voice sounding distressed with that single word.

His head shot back away from her quickly upon hearing her reply. Would he really have done that to her? Would Kozlov have locked her in a freezer while he attended the ballet?

After everything else Star had told him that had happened to her, he knew that the answer had to be yes.

Now, he began to walk quicker towards the house, not caring if his movements woke her up. He wanted to get her back inside where it was warm. Making it to the bedroom, he gently put her into a sitting position on the bed on the side she seemed to favor.

"Star," he said firmly but not loud, just enough to get her attention, "Star, you need to get ready for bed."

With that, Star began to move her body, not even opening her eyes, as she undressed mostly asleep. Off came the jacket, tossed onto the floor, then she reached down and yanked the shoes off, tossing them into the bathroom, not caring what she was doing. The pants were next, which he only partially turned his head away for.

Seeing her bare legs past the boxers to the socks she kept on, made him start to breathe harder. Star didn't bother taking off either shirt, as she then fell into a lying position on the mattress, already fast asleep. Reaching over, he had to take the wool cap off of her head, since she had not realized it was still there.

Looking down at Star lying there helpless as she slept, he reached over with his left hand, wanting to run it over her exposed leg's skin, but pulling the cover over her to keep her warm instead.

Once her legs were covered up, that brought him back to where he was. Quickly, he went back out to the den, locking the front door. Taking a large pot from a cabinet, he filled it with water and headed out to the fire, dumping it carefully over the glowing coals so that it was out. He picked up their blankets and the two bowls and headed inside.

With stops at the kitchen, for putting the bowls in the sink and locking the back door, and then the den, dropping off the blankets and adding to the fire, he then headed into the bathroom. Getting ready for bed fairly quickly, he turned the last of the lights off in the house. The fire in the bedroom had gotten low enough so there was a slight chill to the room. He added a couple of logs to help warm the room up.

Making his way over to the bed, he wanted to make sure that Star had warmed back up, so he slid under the covers and edged his way towards the center to be closer to where she was lying. He knew that he had not put the cuff on her, but right now, he did not care. The doors were locked and he doubted she could sneak past him.

As he lay on his back, looking at the ceiling, he told himself that he just wanted make sure that Star was warm, then he would move to the couch.

* * *

**Day Five**

* * *

Cracking open her eyes slightly, Star saw the wall of the bedroom and the bathroom door in front of her. The last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch outside with Scary watching the fire. She was in the bed covered with the blanket and it felt like the pillows were behind her back again. The room was still very dark, but there was a glow from the fire. It looked like it had not been added to in a while, but overall she felt quite warm.

But as she had slept, her legs had scrunched up so she was almost in a fetal position, her left arm bent so her hand was under her pillow to escape the cold. Her legs were achy from being drawn up so she slowly stretched them downward, straightening them out and feeling the coldness of the bedsheets on her bare skin, giving her entire body a shiver from head to toe.

That was when she felt the pillows behind her begin to move. Star also realized that they were a bit firmer than before, not to mention _much_ warmer. With her eyes going wide and trying to get the sleep from her mind, she recognized the movement behind her as someone rolling over.

Suddenly, a strong arm slid its way across her waist until it was securely around her right arm and midsection. With no effort, it pulled her away from the edge of the bed towards the center, where her entire body finally stopped once it made contact with the hard, warm body of Scary.

As her mind filled with worry, she felt one of his legs push between her own, to nestle between them, her left one slightly being pinned with his weight. The hand that had pulled her against him traveled down the length of her arm until it finally found what it was searching for, her hand, clasping it by intertwining their fingers.

That was when she felt the movement under her head pillow as his metal left arm slid forward, finally stopping when it discovered and took hold of her left wrist. The initial touch of it was slightly chilly, but after only a few seconds it went away, due to whatever metal it was being warmed by her own body heat.

"I got you," she heard sleepily grumbled from the assassin who had her firmly in his grasp. She could feel all of him against her, the firmness at his waist pressed against the small of her back. Star kept waiting for what usually would happen when Kozlov would say that, and get all touchy-feely.

First, would be the groping, touching whatever he wanted, and then the hitting would start. Star had almost become used to the pain that Kozlov had dealt her body, the punches and the kicks. But Scary was strong like nobody else was. Thinking of what he had done to the trees, snapping them in half with a single hit, there was no way she would survive that kind of painful encounter with him.

Star figured that there was no way she would be able to stop him, but maybe he would get bored if she fought him. There had been times when Kozlov was too lazy to deal with her, and he would just lock her away instead of forcing himself on her. Maybe that would work with Scary also.

Starting to move away by trying to roll onto her front, hoping to put distance between the two of them, Star found that not only was his arm lying over her body, immobilizing her, but so was the weight of his leg. She was trapped.

But as she laid there trying to slide out from under Scary's grasp, waiting for the inevitable pain to start, she only registered the feel of his foot gently starting to rub against her socked foot.

"It's not morning yet. Go back to sleep, doll," the muffled words came from a very tired and mostly asleep Scary.

His face was right at the back of her neck, she could feel his warm breath on her skin, searing her with its touch. Star then felt his body expand as he took in a long, deep breath, knowing he was catching the smell of her clean, washed hair. As his body moved, it pressed harder against her back, but then he released the inhale and he seemed to fall back into a deep slumber.

It was then that Star finally comprehended that Scary was only snuggling. It had started when she had shivered, so he had moved to be able to warm her, by holding her close to him. He had said that 'he had her', but she had taken it the way that it had meant to her for so long. Scary wasn't going to hurt her, he was helping her, in his own way. But why?

Star wondered how he had ended up in the bed with her to begin with, but it had to have happened when he had brought her inside. He had to have carried her, for the second time today, bringing her inside and then putting her to bed. And Scary had _indeed_ called her doll, _again_. For an assassin, he was a very confusing person.

Deciding to roll with it, since she was not used to anyone comforting her, Star took a calming breath, adjusted her arms so they were in a bit more comfortable position, to which Scary just let his own arms be moved by her. Either he was in a deep enough sleep, or he was letting her.

She decided that she didn't care, because the warmth that was now spreading across her entire body from resting up against him was a wonderful feeling. With her mind slowly coming to terms with their joined bodily arrangement, after a few minutes, Star felt herself drifting back off to sleep.

The next time that Star was conscious enough to take in her surroundings, she smiled at the gently encompassing arm that was still firmly holding her while she had been sleeping. The only thing that had changed was that she was holding his left hand instead of him grasping her wrist.

Well, she thought, this proves that he does sleep.

As she remember how her dreams had gone, she noticed that the only parts that she could remember were good, not the nightmare ones that she usually got. Was that because of Scary being next to her?

"'Morning, doll," Star felt the whispered words against her ear, as his head was resting against the back of her head, now beginning to nuzzle against her, somehow knowing she was awake.

As she laid there trying to decide what to do, his head made its way over then down to her exposed neck, where she felt his lips place a light kiss onto her. It was such an intimate, pleasurable act that she was so unused to, but yet she felt her stomach become aflutter, as well as a new type of warmth forming between her legs. Years of being touched there had never made her feel like this, but a simple kiss had. How was that possible?

"Looks like we'll be spending the day inside."

Star took a sharp inhale at his words, wondering if he meant them in the way that her dirty mind was suddenly taking them.

"What do you mean?" she asked, not being able to decide what she wanted his answer to be.

"Look out the window," more warm breath over her neck, ending with him resting his now bristly cheek in the crook between her neck and shoulder.

Star turned her head toward where he lay, getting a view out of the barely lit window. The only light from the sun was passing through heavy clouds, but there was still enough of it for her to see the downfall of fluffy snow.

No, she didn't want to go outside in that. It would reminder her too much of the bad place, the freezer. Just thinking about it made another shiver go down her body. As it passed over her, Scary tighten his grip, not to where he was hurting her, but in a protective embracive hug. Did he know? How could he?

"Please tell me there is something warm we can have for breakfast," another kiss on the same spot, "and lunch," another kiss, "and dinner," with a final kiss.

Oh, how he needed to stop doing that…

"Yeah, I can make a couple of things," Star said, while pleading with her warming body to calm itself down.

If she hadn't gone to the concert that night, would she have eventually found someone back home who would have her aching in the same way, exposing her body to the same delightful belly-butterflies that an assassin was able to?

No…that her _future killer_ was.

That was the idea, the single thought, which she needed to keep foremost in the mind. No matter how peculiarly he sometimes acted towards her, like _right now_ as the best example, in a matter of days, Scary would complete his mission, as he had told her.

Gathering enough mental strength to exterminate the butterflies, Star tried to pull away from his embrace, only to find him unwilling to release her.

Taking a deep breath, she informed him, "I can't make anything to eat from here, you know, Scary."

When he moaned in protest, she took that as her cue to try and free herself again. This time, he reluctantly allowed her from his grasp so that she was able to stand up in the chilly room. Of course, it would be the thought of _food_ that made him release her, she sadly grinned.

Scary rolled onto his back with his eyes closed, letting both of his arms flop outstretched at his sides, the sheets lying below his exposed chest. There was a playful smirk on the edge of his lips, and he looked peaceful. Could he be acting this way on purpose, to mess with her? Because seeing him like _that_ made her want to crawl right on top of him. She really needed to concentrate on that key phrase.

Moving toward the foot of the bed, she saw that the fire was mostly warm coals. Taking a step back so that she could see through the door into the den, Star saw that the fire in there looked totally out. She began to pick up the sweats that she had last worn last night, but found that they smelled of the smoke from the campfire.

Throwing them into the far corner with stuff that didn't fit, she pulled one of the last two clean pairs from the drawer to wear. Since both t-shirts she still had on since last night were short sleeved, she found a long sleeve one to use until the house warmed back up. She also put on another layer of socks to keep her feet warm.

"Come on lazy, you have work to do. Your mission is getting cold, and wants some fires going by the time breakfast is ready," she said hating to do it, but adding the serious key words to her statement, seemed to pull Scary from this devious gentleness.

Those words had the effect that she had been expecting, with his lips uncurling to a thin serious line, his eyes opening with a slight darkness that she was sure would not have been there otherwise.

Scary then rolled off of his side of the bed, silently beginning to dress by add an additional layer of clothes also, but putting on his boots so that he could go outside. As Star made her way to the kitchen, she realized that this was the first time that he had not chained her ankle while she was sleeping. Probably because he had been there to stop her if she had tried to leave. He had been very effective at doing that, maybe more mentally with her than physically.

Taking out a couple of items from the fridge to cook, Scary passed her without a glance and headed outside, returning with a couple of items to clean out the hearth of the ash build-up from the past few days.

Star began to regret having to use the words she had, wondering _what might have been_ if she had not.

Nope, key phrase...recite the key phrase: complete the mission.

They were both quietly dedicated to their individual tasks for the next half hour and when done, there was a large, warm breakfast on the table next to a roaring hot fire. In no time, they had eaten their fill and warmed up enough so that their additional layer of clothes were slowly removed.

Sitting at the table across from each other, they made eye contact, Scary seeming to be back to his normal, not confusing, self.

"So, what do we do now?" Star asked, finally breaking the silence between them.


	24. Not All Songs Bring Good Memories

**Song: _In The Summer of His Years_ by Connie Francis**

* * *

As Star continued to sort the records on the floor in a multi-layered, semi-circle surrounding her as she sat next to the player, he watched her work while he sat in the chair by the fireplace, brooding. When he had woken up this morning, lying in bed next to Star, molding her lithe little body to his, it had just felt so right, like it was familiar, as if he had been like that before.

But, there was no way it should have, right?

Maybe it could.

Maybe it was because of the Chair.

His Chair.

The one he was required to sit in after completing his missions. The one that the doctors told him was supposed to help him with keeping his emotions in check after completing a mission. To also help suppress the mission details so that they did not interfere with later missions. So that his conscious did not begin to impede with his future actions that he may need to take. So that he would not be compromised.

Could there have been a mission where he was to infiltrate somewhere and had to deal with a woman on that same level of affection?

At first, she had tried to get away from him, out of the bed. He wanted her to stay, in his arms. Was that why he had kissed her neck? Had he been doing it wrong? He didn't think so, but he had not wanted to let her go. Because at the time, it just seemed like the right thing to do. He had even heard Star's breathing change as he had planted each little kiss, as if she had liked it.

When Star had used the term _mission_ to address herself, it had helped to focus his wandering mind back to the present. She knew that what he had done was…wrong...mean...no, it was too intimate, that was it, for an interaction between the two of them, even if he hadn't at the time.

He now knew that Star had done it on purpose to remind him of what he was going to have to do to her in a few short days, and worse, it had worked. She had not tried to use his vulnerability to try and get away, or even ask him to let her go. But she had told him yesterday that she would not. And he had told her numerous times that when it became time, he would have to finish his mission and kill her.

No evidence, no witnesses.

So why was the idea of killing her starting to nag at him, to bother him? He had killed so many already, why was this one girl messing with him? Was it because no matter what she knew about him, she was still trying to interact and be nice to him? She should fear him, no matter what.

He was going to end her life, and she knew it.

Hell, she had to remind _him_ about it this morning.

It had to be the fact that he was spending so much time with her without having the Chair wipe him, it had been too long. Maybe it was because of something like this, these feelings he was having to deal with, was why the doctors had him sit in the Chair. This could be exactly what they had been trying to prevent. If so, then maybe he could understand their reasoning.

This morning upon waking up, if it had been the day that he needed to kill her, there would have been no way that he could have hurt her. But he knew that he would need to, that he would _have_ to. Maybe it _had_ been the wrong choice days ago, when he had decided to let her out of the cage and given her a few days of relative freedom.

Had that been guilt that had made him do that? Yes, that was it, somewhere deep in his mind, the Chair had missed just enough of his guilt to make him let her out.

The worst part was that overall, he had enjoyed being here with Star. He was having…fun. She was talking with him like nobody else ever did. There, it was always commands, mission briefings, while the other soldiers shied away when he came anywhere near him. She was touching him gently like he had never known. There, it was procedures, sometimes painful ones, on his arm. She was doing none of that, and he was enjoying it.

But in a few days, it would not matter. He would complete his mission, set this entire place would be set on fire, he would make his rendezvous with the helicopter, and then, when he got back to the base, he would sit in his Chair.

Then all of this would be gone. The music, the food, the touching, the kissing, the laughter, the teasing. None of it would exist anymore.

Star would be gone, and so would his memory of her. Only a note with her name would be left to let someone know that she had even existed.

If that was going to happen, then why should he let it bother him so much now?

He could enjoy his time here with Star, finish his mission, which is something that he had never failed to do so far, and then, he could let the Chair take away this memory, and the guilt of killing her, just like it had for every other mission.

The best of both worlds. Yes, that was what he would do.

"Ok, Scary. I've sorted these into different groups. One that I have already played and ones that I have not. Then I broke that down into the different styles of music. We are going to find some kind of music that you actually like," Star said spinning on her rump so that she was now facing him with a smile of determination on her face. "That way, later on, if you get the chance, you will know what you like to listen to."

If only she realized the flaw in her logic, he thought, but this is what he had just convinced himself to be a part of. Let her play the music, maybe he will actually find something that he likes, even if he will not remember it later. If Star can sit though learning how to clean guns and target practice, then he can listen to the music that she plays.

Standing up from the chair, he walked over to where the records lay waiting for him. Sitting down just outside of the barrier that was keeping him from sitting right next to her, he crossed his legs and waved his hand towards the device, giving her the sign to go ahead, which brought another lovely smile to her face.

* * *

Star had figured that with the way Scary had been sitting in the chair, being quiet and foreboding for about an hour before she finally figured out something to do, since heading outside was not the first option, that he would either complain about not wanting to do it, but most like ignore her completely.

The fact that he came over and sat down, even without speaking, was a big step for him, she figured. So far, he had not really seemed interested in listening to music, but that was one of the things that she had liked to do with her friends. They would spend hours spinning records, finding new songs, memorizing lyrics, dancing. It was one of her favorite memories.

She was not sure exactly what she had hoped to accomplish with doing this. With what Scary had told her about how he 'lived' when not on a mission she doubted that he would really get the chance to listen to music, but as long as the two of them had fun spending the day doing this, then it would be worth it.

The first pile she decided to go through was the few country albums that Kozlov had. It was her least favorite type of music, and luckily, as it turns out, it was Scary's least favorite also. After just two songs, he had asked if there was a way to only hear a portion of the song, that way they could move on faster. Yes, she had sighed with relief at the suggestion. She went ahead and put them back in the cabinet on the lower shelf, that she told Scary had now been designated as the 'nope-shelf.'

For the next genre, she decided to get classical out of the way. The crazy thing was that there were a couple of songs that both of them liked, songs that she had actually heard before, when they had been used in movies, but to Scary they were new and he didn't mind them. They went to the other side of the nope-shelf, not an actual favorite, but maybe if they were bored.

"Alright, now you've heard a lot of this pile," Star said, laying her hand on the 'played rock' stack of records. "So let me see if there's something in this one…"

Star began to slide the albums off to the side until she gave a slight bounce and pulled one from the pile, holding it up for him to see it.

"I have a good feeling about this one. There is usually one Connie Francis song that everyone likes," Star said going up to her knees to swap out the records on the machine starting with _Ave Maria_. As her voice began to fill the room, she said, "Since this seems like it is going to take a while…"

Star then fully stood up and hopped over the records, making her way over to the couch where the blankets they had used outside were piled. Spreading one out on the floor, she then topped it with the other. Running past Scary still sitting quietly on the floor watching her, she disappeared into the bedroom, jumping onto her knees on the bed, grabbing all the pillows in her hands, then moving so she could deposit them upon the blankets.

"Come on, get over here," reaching down to take hold of his left hand, pulling him into the pillow pile, to which he moved, slowly, but he did move. "Lay on your back, face the record player and get comfy."

Scary looked at her skeptically, but he followed her directions, taking three of the pillows for himself to go under his head. Star went over to adjust the volume, but when she turned around to move back to the blanket, she noticed that the rest of the pillows that Scary had not claimed for himself were now arranged right next to his, not off to the side where she had left them.

She could take the hint.

Lying down next to Scary on his left, she fluffed a pillow before getting comfortable. They listened to the first side of the album all the way through so Star flipped it over, sitting back down as the song began with it melancholy tune. They had not listened too much of the song before Scary spoke.

"I do not think that I like this song," he stated.

"This song is a bit sadder than her others," she replied

"Why is she singing of killing someone?" Scary asked.

"It's a tribute to JFK," she said turning her head to look at him.

"Who?"

"You've never heard of JFK, John F. Kennedy? He was President of the United States when he was assassinated," Star said "1962. I was only two when it happened, so it's not like I remember it, but I did have to do a report on him for history class. There is a bit of a conspiracy theory as to who killed him and why," Star said looking back up at the ceiling.

"Why? Was the assassin caught?" Scary now turned his head and was looking at her.

"Yeah, but with the way it happened, there were a lot in the public, and even some in the government, that said that nobody could have made the shots that killed him. That there had to be a second shooter," she turned to look at him.

He actually looked curious about this topic.

"Do you remember anything about it from this school report?"

"Yep, there was this thing called the Warren Commission that did the investigation. They said that with the 2 to 3 seconds between the three bullets with the gun they found, it would not have been possible to make the shots, and that there had to be a second shooter."

"Do you remember what type of gun they found?" Scary asked.

"A rifle called a Mannlicher-Carcano. The only reason I remember that is because I misspelled the name of it on the paper and my teacher deducted two points for it, otherwise, I would have gotten a perfect score of 100. He called it a 'learning lesson'. Why are you so interested? Jealous of another assassin?" Star asked smiling but as she saw the seriousness of his expression her mind started whirling. "There's no way…Scary, are you messing with me?"

"I've been trained on that gun," he simply said with an unreadable expression on his face. "I can make the timing between those numbers of shots."

Star then rolled slightly towards him onto her right side, staring at him, trying to figure out if he really was messing with her, but for some reason, she knew that he wasn't.

"Are you telling me that you killed JFK? That you were the second shooter?" Star's curiosity was beyond crazy now.

"All that I am saying is that I can make those shots, with that gun," Scary then turned to look at the ceiling. "And if I had been there, I would not have been a 'second shooter'. It would have been my mission, and then there would have been someone set up to take the blame for such a high profile assassination."

Star could only stare at Scary with her mouth gaping open as she had listened to his assessment of the event. After seeing him shoot yesterday, knowing that with his training, there was a really good chance that it had indeed been him, but why would he not just admit it to her? Why give her such a convoluted answer? It's not like there was anyone here for her to tell.

Rolling over onto her back, she stared at the ceiling for a long time, listening to songs, thinking about their talk before she gave a chuckle.

"What?" Scary asked turning to look at her.

"If what you are saying is true, then I just got the answer to probably the biggest conspiracy theory out there, right next to the Roswell space aliens," Star turned to look at him with a devious smile, "Have you ever been to New Mexico?"


	25. Dancing Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a chapter where the songs I have chosen are written into the story and considered very important with their growing closeness.  
> Please give it a chance.

**Song: _Can't Help Falling In Love_ by Elvis**

**Song: _Devil in Disguise_ by Elvis**

* * *

After eating lunch, Star began to cleanup while he headed outside to gather more wood. The snow was barely coming down now, and if it remained the same, in a few hours the sky should be clear. But the fluffy white substance was bringing a chill to the entire house, even with both fireplaces still going strong.

While they had been listening to the records, he had made sure that neither fire got too low, wanting to make sure that the house was warm for Star.

He also considered that, depending on what happened tomorrow or the next day, the snow may begin to melt and it would get all of the wood he had chopped and stacked wet, making it unusable. He decided that he was going to bring all that he could inside now, and then if he had to, he would take a tree out in the woods. There had been a few nearby the path that he had spotted that looked dead and fairly dried up.

Hopefully it would not come to that since it would take a while and he was enjoying his time inside with Star.

Granted, he may not have found anything so far that he could say that he actually liked, but there had been a few songs that he did not mind.

When Star had gotten up to start lunch, he had taken the Connie Francis album and moved it into the bottom right pile of the ones they both didn't like, underneath the ones called country. There had been something about listening to that song that irritated him.

Was it possible that this JFK had been one of his previous missions? It was just over twenty years ago, but that would mean little to him, due to the cryostasis chamber that he resided in between missions. But, he did know that he could use that make of rifle, and such quick timing between shots would not be a problem for him. Even having someone to take the blame...all of it pointed towards a HYDRA mission.

He decided that he would link the possibility with his knowledge of the Chair and move on from that topic all together.

By the time he had finished moving the wood, with Star now stacking while he carried them in, he was sick of walking through the crunchy snow. Luckily it had not gotten deep, but it was just high enough to be annoying. He hated the stuff for the simple reason of not being able to cover his tracks, but on the other side, it also meant that someone could not hide theirs, unless it was coming down too heavy.

He had kept his path close to the house, while not seeing anything in the immediate surrounding area of the yard. Even though he had not done a normal security sweep this morning due to the weather, he felt that the outside conditions would probably be working in his favor right now.

As he was in the bathroom cleaning up and washing his hands, he heard the distinct sound of a pop, like a very small caliber of weapon. Then there was another. Exiting the bathroom quietly, making his way around the bed, he could hear a few more pops, but he wondered, if something were wrong, wouldn't Star let him know?

Cautiously, he glanced around the corner of the door's frame to find Star standing at the stove-top, with the lidded pot in front of her being the cause for the noise. She kept shaking the pot gently as the pops began to grow in number. Walking over to stand behind her, he noted that her body seemed to be bouncing to a song that only she could hear.

He leaned his head slightly forward so that it was just about to her ear before he quietly asked, "Why are you cooking bullets?"

Star gave a startled jump, bouncing backwards into his body and away from the hot stove as she heard him. He reached forward and took hold of the sides of her waist with his hands to steady her into place.

"If there was a bell in this house, I would tie it around your neck, Scary," she said, giving him a slight right elbow to his chest to show her displeasure at being scared by him.

He then allowed his arms to slip a little bit more around her, moving from just on her hips so that they were now fully embracing Star, holding her body nicely against his, he thought. If she gave any sign of not wanting him to do so, or was uncomfortable with it, he did not see it.

"It's cute that you think that you would be able to do something _like that_ to someone _like me_ ," he said, leaning his chin down so that it rested on her right shoulder. "You also never answered my question, why are you cooking bullets?"

"It's not bullets, and you know at least that much, Scary," Star sighed with annoyance at his jest, while pushing her body slightly against his to make her point. "I'm making us some popcorn as a snack. There's not a lot of junk foods here, but I found a bag and it _is_ the _preference_ to eat during a day of being shut-in."

Standing together for the next few minutes, he finally broke his hold once she said that the popping had stopped enough and that it was ready. Moving the pot to a cold burner, Star lifted the lid and began to shake salt all over the small white items. Then she closed the lid and gave the entire thing a really good shaking. She had pulled out a large plastic bowl and set it on the counter off to the side, and now she began to pour the contents into it.

"Here, take this to the blankets," Star said, lifting the bowl up as an offering to him, which he accepted and then he took a deep sniff of. The popcorn smelled salty and warm, almost familiar in some way.

Another one of those type feelings.

He headed over to the blanket as Star went to the fridge, looking for something. She finally came back to the blanket with two glass bottles in her hands, filled with a dark liquid. Sitting down onto her knees, she handed him one of the bottles.

"I don't remember seeing a bottle opener, but I'm guessing that you can get these open for us," Star asked hopeful, but already knowing that he could. With a simple twist from his left hand, the metal cap came off. Just for fun, he then put it into the palm of his hand and began to crush it into a small metal ball.

"Show off," she said, handing him the other bottle before standing up to go to the record player and taking another album out of the jacket. Putting it on, she made her way back to him, taking the offered, now open bottle, from him.

"So, what is this stuff?" he asked taking a sniff, and finding that there was something in the air that prickled his nose, making him pull the bottle away from this face, not liking the idea of drinking the substance.

"If I tell you to think of it as being somewhere between a Pepsi and a Coke, would you get me?" Star asked.

"No."

"Then just drink it, Scary," Star said, taking a swallow of the liquid. Since she had not really steered him wrong so far, he gave a small hesitant drink. It was bubbly and slightly acidic tasting, but overall, it was not bad. "See, told you. It should go well with the popcorn."

Two bowls of popcorn and hours later, most of the not-yet-played records had been listened to, evaluated, and the sorted for later.

During this time, he had removed the thick back pillows from the couch and placed them up against the brick hearth. With them in place, they were able to use the bedroom pillows as support for sitting up instead of lying down. He could only take watching the ceiling for so long, and he wanted to look at anything, Star in particular, much more.

Sitting up against the hearth, Star had finally leaned back against his left side, not caring that he had such a dangerous weapon wrapped casually around her, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder. He kept looking out of the window, noting how the day was already starting to get dark, which meant that it was almost regrettably over.

Star had gotten up earlier and began to cook something on the stove which was filling the small house slowly with its wonderful scent. She told him that it would have to cook for a few hours so that was why she had made him the second bowl of popcorn, after he had eaten most of the first.

Now, there looked to be only one record left from the stack she had been pulling from all day. Standing up, she made her way over to the single album and lifted it for him to see, but he was only greeted with a man's face staring at him.

"So, Scary, I left the best for last," Star told him, happily displaying the items.

"Sure you did," he commented dryly.

"Well, if nothing else, at least I've taught you _sarcasm_ ," she said, moving over to the device, maybe for the final time today.

After getting the record ready, she quickly made her way to stand in the center of the blanket, bouncing with anticipation at the starting sound of the music. With the first notes, he had to admit that it sounded better than anything else had yet today.

But what really drew his focus was Star starting to sway in time with the song. He could tell that she knew the song well, hitting the notes with a jerk of her hips, a bit provocative, he thought, but he liked the movement.

As the first song ended, she turned to look excitedly at him.

"So, do you like Elvis?"

"Elvis?"

"Yes, Elvis. What do you think?" The next song had already begun. It also was not bad. Actually, he liked it. But…

"What kind of name is Elvis?"

"What kind of name is Winter Soldier?"

"It's the kind that scares people."

"Well, Elvis' is the kind that makes people _happy_ just by _hearing_ his name. So, do you like it or not?" Star stood there looking down at him with her arms crossed, waiting for his answer.

"Yes, from what little I've heard so far through this conversation."

With that Star threw her arms over her head in a sign of victory, he guessed, and then made a leap towards him, landing on her knees on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck to give him a hug.

If he had known that this was going to be her reaction to actually liking something, he would have just chosen anything earlier.

"I knew it, not even an assassin could withstand Elvis the Pelvis."

"Wait, what?" he practically yelled…

A couple of songs later, each accompanied with Star trying to get the swaying of her hips just right, he couldn't sit there any more as she just moved…wrong. Standing up finally got her attention enough to stop moving.

Walking over to the player, he saw that it was almost to the end of that side of the record, so he lifted the needle to check the last song. Nope, not right. Flipping the record over, he knew that there had to be at least one song that would work. Three songs in, he found exactly what he was looking for.

Dropping the needle near the end of the previous song to give him some time before the next one started, he made his way over to Star, who was standing there just watching him. Stepping close, he almost expected her to back away from him. Instead, she held her place, her eyes not straying from his.

Why was this girl not scared of him?

Reaching down he took her left hand and placed it on his right shoulder, then moved his right arm underneath hers until he found the small of her back, wrapping it around her so that he could hold her close. The look that came over her face was one of shock, but not in a bad way. Sliding his left arm down her bare right one, when he reached Star's hand, he clasped it into his own, holding it outward. This was the correct position, he knew that it was.

As the song he had chosen finally started to play, Star's eyes grew wider than he had ever seen them. Not giving her time to try and question or stop him, he began to lead her in a simple side-step pattern, in time with the gentle music. She followed his movements, her body resting against his, staring up into his eyes.

" _This_ is how you dance," he stated gently, as they continued to move as one.

Star only responded with a simple nod of her head, as she allowed him to lead her around the small blanket area while the song played on in the background softly. He barely registered the words being sung, concentrating mostly on the melody, while staring down at her. He could feel her heart beating fast against his chest, she was so close. Her entire body seemed to be warmer than he would have thought that it should be. Maybe he needed to check the fire and let it die down a little bit.

The crooning voice continued on, singing the very romantic song. He had not listened to the words, caring more for the melody, but right now, he was not going to stop or complain. Raising his left arm, he guided her into a slow, gentle spin, which Star performed just right, coming to rest perfectly back against his chest, her arm back on his shoulder. All too soon, in his opinion, the song ended, leaving them gazing at each other in silence.

"So, you _do_ know how to dance properly?" he just held her, not wanting to let go, as the next song started.

"My mom made me learn for my cousin's wedding," Star said not pulling away, staying where she was also. "Scary, how do _you_ know how to dance like that?"

He had no answer for her as the next song played on, its lyrics seeming perfect for them right now, in this moment. He felt exactly like what this Elvis was singing about, a devil in disguise.

Releasing Star from his grasp, he stepped back, finding a piece of popcorn that had fallen onto the blanket to be the most interesting thing in the entire house right now.

"I think that I'll go and see if dinner is ready," Star left him standing there, not questioning him anymore on the topic, for which he was grateful.

There was something wrong with his training. That had to be it. He would be fine once he made it back to the base.

* * *

Star had been quiet for most of the meal, not on purpose, but after their dance, what were they supposed to talk about? _Hey, Scary, nice dance moves, by the way, how many days until you kill me?_ No, there was something going on, but she didn't know what, and after seeing Scary's expression when she had asked him about knowing how to dance, she was starting to think that he didn't know either.

Instead, they had ended up discussing food, his favorite topic.

"Is there any more stew in the pot?" Scary asked, with a few bites still left in his second bowl.

"Yes, but I was hoping to save enough so that we could _both_ have some for lunch tomorrow," she answered as if talking to a small child who could not help himself. "What will HYDRA think if you show back up having gained a potbelly and love handles?"

She could see from his expression that he was once again lost with her terminology. Actually, after having been so close and touching him earlier, she was positive that so far, he had absolutely no problem with gaining either of those items.

"Never mind, Scary," she said getting up, taking her empty bowl with her to the sink and quickly washing it. Searching the cabinets, she found a smaller container that would fit the remaining stew so it would fit into the fridge.

As she put the bowl away for tomorrow, she turned around to find Scary standing right behind her holding his own bowl out for her to take. Instead, she decided to mess with him a bit.

Pointing with her finger, she said, "Sinks right there. You know what to do."

Scary did not say anything, but instead he walked over and began to wash the bowl and spoon, placing them next to her own to dry when he was done. As he was washing it, Star opened the pantry and took out a handful of items for him.

When he went to walk past her to leave the kitchen, she placed her open palm onto his firm chest, making him stop where he was. Reaching out with her other hand, she opened it so that he could see the fistful of Turkish Delights resting there for him to take. That brought a smile to his face.

"How about we get the couch and bed fixed back to normal?" she asked, dropping the treats into his eager open hand. He gave her a nod instead of speaking since the first piece had already made its way inside his mouth.

Scary headed over and with his free left hand, grabbed as many of the pillows for the bedroom as he could. Making a second trip, he was able to get the rest while she put the couch ones back into place.

Lifting up the blanket carefully, she folded it over so that all of the scattered popcorn pieces were trapped inside. Heading to the bedroom, she slipped the shoes that fit her on and then went back to pick up the blanket. Going to the back door, since it was already unlocked, she stepped outside onto the snow covered landing area, closed the door behind her, and giving the blanket a couple of quick, strong shakes to get the trash off of it.

Rolling the blanket over her shoulders as a cover, she looked around the quiet back yard. There was a lovely glow from the moon giving the snow a beautiful shiny sheen while the air was crisp and fresh. Thinking back to when she had actually liked winter time, she mentally cursed Kozlov again.

"Tell me about the ballet," she heard whispered from very close behind her, but this time, the sudden presence of his voice is not what frightened her. It was her own memories. How could he be so sneaky?

"It's because of the ballet that I know how long that Kozlov had me. Every year, he always made sure to attend the opening performance of the new season. He didn't care what the ballet actually was, he just wanted to go. He didn't trust his guys to watch over me the first year, so he came up with the idea of locking me inside a freezer at one of the restaurants that he used as a front. When I say locked, I mean as in he put a padlock on the door so that nobody could get in and I could not get out. It was the only time that I would pray for him to come back. How long would his guys wait before getting me out of there if something happened to him...if they even decided to get me out? Four times…that's how many times I stood in that damn freezer while he took some gussied-up bimbo out for a night on the town with music and champagne."

Star feels his warm right arm go around her shoulders, before he then used it to turn her body away from the cold outside, leading her back into the house, pausing only long enough to lock the door behind them. Leading her over toward the chair next to the fireplace, he left her standing next to it then before heading over to the couch. Lifting it easily, Scary then pulled it into the center of the open floor, where they had already spent the entire day, but now the couch faces the fireplace, being close enough to use the hearth as a footrest.

Offering his hand to her, Star lets him pull her to the couch, him sitting down first then pulling her down next to his right side, just like they had been sitting last night outside at the fire. Slipping her shoes off, she props her feet up with Scary doing the same next to her.

For the next few hours, they sit and watch the fire, with a couple of different styles of records playing in the background. Scary had loaded the machine with more of the rock that she liked listening to, even though he didn't seem to. When the fire had mostly died down, Star knew that they needed to turn in.

"How about you let this fire die out tonight, we close the bedroom door, and we just use the fireplace in there?" she sleepily asked as she continued to lean on Scary's warm body as his arm was on her shoulders surrounding her.

"You want me to sleep in the bed next to you again?" Scary asked quietly.

"It's a waste to have both fires going...and closing the door would make the bedroom warm. We can worry about the rest of the house in the morning."

Scary seemed to consider this for a moment, then he nodded in agreement.

"Mind if I use the bathroom first?" she asked.

"Go ahead, I'm going to do a final check and deal with the fires," Scary said as he moved his arm from around her so that she could get up.

They had not turned on any lights after dinner, letting the fireplace be the only source for the large room. Star waited until she made it to the bathroom before turning on a light. Looking in the mirror, she saw a bit of red in her eyes. She had figured after sitting for so long that they wouldn't still show the signs of her almost crying from telling Scary the story. She didn't know how he had known about the ballet, but there had been no reason to hide it.

When she left the bathroom, Scary had already shut the bedroom door and was adding a couple of logs to the fire. He had gotten up earlier in the evening and come in here, adding just enough wood to keep it at a low burn. Now, with just a few logs, the fire would be going strong for them to fall asleep to.

Stripping down, Star found herself left in the boxers, a pair of socks and a single large men's undershirt. Remembering how warm lying next to Scary had been this morning, she knew that this would be plenty to wear even with the snow outside.

Moving the pillows into place, she slipped under the covers as Scary made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Rolling onto her side to face the wall, she began to quickly feel the effects of sleep taking over, letting her eyes close. She eventually heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, before the bed behind her dipped low from his weight.

A warm hand began to snake its way down her right arm until it found a hold of her hand, grasping it firmly.

"Good night, Scary," she said sleepily.

"Good night, doll," he responded, pulling her hand back and placing a kiss on her knuckles before beginning to move his body to get comfortable. When he was done, they were laying in exactly the position they had started this day in. But now it was a strangely, comforting position that did not frighten her like it had this morning.


	26. Day Six - Star Runs Again...But This Time With A Purpose

**Song: _Riders on the Storm_ by The Doors**

* * *

**Day Six**

* * *

Waking up, he heard the sound of rain starting to hit the roof of the house. There was no light coming through the window, probably due to the rain clouds, but he guessed that it was still quite early in the morning. Another day stuck inside.

At least he felt vindicated about all the work they had done yesterday by bringing inside the entire wood pile, but now due to the rain, it would also probably be the last of the wood. Even the tree he had considered as a backup for firewood would now be soaking wet. They were going to have to conserve what was left of the woodpile for the next four days.

He was not worried about the final day since he would be extracted then, and keeping Star warm would no longer be a concern.

With that thought, he moved his right arm just enough so that he felt her skin under his arm.

Wait, her skin?

Opening his eyes, he looked at Star's sleeping form, trying to pull something from his memory. That's right, she had gotten all squirmy during the night and woken him up with her moving. He had been asleep for some time before she sat up in bed, still mostly asleep, he hoped.

At that point, Star had then started to curse like a drunken sailor at him, and ripped off the t-shirt she had been wearing before collapsing back down on the bed unconscious, where she was still in deep sleep.

Now, still lying on his side, his arm was across her midsection, similar to yesterday, but Star was sleeping on her back with the blanket resting across her chest covering her breast, but not her arms. His own face was almost touching her right shoulder, while that arm was folded back so that it rested on his neck. Her left hand still clasped his metal one under her own pillow. He could also tell that his own right leg had found a place covering her right one, so that it rested between both of hers.

How they could both sleep with moving into such positions was beyond him. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes hoping to get a few more hours of sleep.

The movement from next to him is what woke him a while later. Star seemed to be stretching her body as she slowly began to wake up. He could feel where she was touching him, his neck, his leg, her belly, as they gently rubbed skin to skin. Regarding her lounging form, he increased his hold over her belly so that she knew he was now awake.

From the sharp intake of breath from her, he guessed that she just realized that her shirt was missing.

"Um, Scary, what happened to my shirt?" she asked starting to take her left hand from his, but he clasped onto it holding her into place.

"You don't remember what you did during the night?" he asked rolling towards her slightly, just enough so that his body was just pressing against hers.

"No, I don't think so," she said as he felt her breathing becoming a bit faster.

"You got too hot while sleeping, sat up and removed the shirt, all while mumbling curses at me," he said as he watched her face as the recollection slowly came to her, as well as a groan from Star. "Very un-ladylike."

"Nothing happened though, did it?" Star asked with a bit of unease in her voice.

"No, nothing happened," he answered, "But you did say a very naughty thing to me."

"What?" her cheeks now blushing and her face beginning to show a bit more worry.

"I believe the exact phrase was, 'what are you, a fucking furnace.'"

With that, Star's entire body seemed to ease underneath his, as if she had been expecting something totally different. He felt her hand, which was still touching his neck, begin to stoke his skin, while a smile creeped across her face.

"Aw, did my big, bad words burn your sensitive assassin ears?"

With those taunting words, he shifted his position very quickly, enough so that he heard the startled gasp from Star. His left arm, holding hers, pulled it further over her head, pinning her wrist over her right shoulder, as he leaned his upper body weight onto his left elbow. His right leg moved higher up from where it had been between her own, until it finally made firm contact with the area between her legs.

Lifting his body so that he was hovering over hers, resting on his knees, this arrangement lifted the sheets that had been covering her naked form, with Star quickly moving her right arm across her bare breast to hide them from him. He used his right arm planted on the bed for a bit of support, even though he was not resting too firmly upon her.

"Yes, and for that I think that you owe me," he responded, trying to decipher the look on her flushed face.

"What do you want?" her voice was barely above a whisper.

Glancing down to where her arm was covering, he saw the small pink star for the first time since they had first met. She had been wearing clothes since that night, and he had all but forgotten about it.

Moving his right hand, he began to slowly drag his palm across her bare stomach, letting it travel upwards so that it slithered between her breasts and under her arm so that it came to rest right next to the object, while his forearm rested along the path the hand had made. Circling over it with his fingers, he felt the smooth skin while staring at the lovely shade of pink.

He could feel Star's breath deepen as he held the position for a few moments longer than he had anticipated.

"I want to hear where you got this from," he said turning his head up to look at her.

Star lifted her head slightly off the bed to glance down at where his finger was still touching as if she were trying to figure out what he was talking about, almost like she had forgotten about the tattoo. A strange look came over her face as her head rested back down onto the pillow.

"I'd always wanted to get a tattoo. Mark it up to rebellious teenager years. When I finally turned eighteen, me and two friends hopped in one of theirs car and drove across the state line to the next state over, since tattoo parlors were illegal where we lived. This is what I chose, while they got different ones. Pink was my favorite color, and my favorite Beatles song is _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_ , so I got a star. Something simple. We spent the day at the parlor, then went to a club with a band playing that night. Eventually, we headed back to the car, really late at night, and slept on the seats while parked at a mall. We drove home in the morning."

"So, it is a good memory, then?" he asked curious, running his finger around the edges of the shape.

"Yes, but it is also where Kozlov got his pet name for me from, since it was always going to be right there," Star answered slightly adjusting her body under his, not in a way that told him that she was trying to get away, but something else he didn't quite understand.

Bending his head lower down, he placed a long, gentle kiss over the pink star, wondering about how much of a coincidence it was that she had the same mark on her that he did, just in a different color. He heard Star give a sharp gasp for air as his lips touched her skin, feeling her arm covering her breasts press against his own chest as her lungs filled. He then adjusted his body back into the same position they had been in just a few minutes ago, but this time he placed his open palm across her bare belly.

"We're going to be stuck inside again today, aren't we?" Star asked as the rain continued to hammer onto the roof.

"Looks like it," he said not really minding, especially if they could stay like this all day.

For the next few minutes, they lay together like that, neither of them speaking, just letting the time pass. His fingers began to move across her skin, swirling the edge of Star's bellybutton and getting a slight giggle from her at the ticklish touch. As his index finger made the movement, he realized that his little finger was much closer to where the boxers were, lying low on her abdomen. He could feel that it was resting on the thin, indented straight line scar he had seen days ago.

Moving his index finger lower, he began to trace the line, finding that it was a couple of inches long, running between her hipbones. He felt Star stomach muscles tighten at his touches. The scar was very thin and he remembered that it looked to have been made from a surgical procedure, as opposed to the others that she had on her body. He also recalled that Star had even said that Kozlov would not mar her front, only her back.

"Star, what is this?" he asked, pressing his finger down firmly starting at the far edge and dragging his finger all the way across the scar.

All at once, in a series of unexpected moves, she acted.

Star yanked her left arm free of his grasp. Her right hand reached down and clasped onto his own right wrist and harshly yanked it away from her, throwing it back towards his own body. Her legs pulled away hard, freeing themselves from under his own. Rolling over to her left, she deposited her feet loudly onto the hard floor, letting the covers fall entirely away from her now exposed body. Reaching down to the floor, she grabbed the shirt she had thrown away during the night in her overheated fit.

"Nothing," she angrily stated, without even looking at him as she stepped into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

In their days together, he had never seen her give off such raw emotion as she just had. Every other time he had asked about a scar, she had always told him of how she had received it, and it had always been at the hands of Kozlov. So why was this one different? Had it been something that had happened to her before Kozlov?

Climbing out of bed, he layered on a couple of shirts knowing that the other room was going to be chilly this morning, even for him. He would let Star have some time alone since this topic had upset her so. It would also give him time to get the fire going so that the den warmed up for the day.

The clouds were so dark that he turned on the overhead light in the den and kitchen area to brighten up the house. He had decided that since there was plenty of gas, turning the generator off to conserve it at night was useless. Getting the fire started, he also calculated out the wood, mentally sorting it into four piles, one for each of the next four days, when they would be needed.

The bedroom had its own stack which should be plenty for the same amount of time, especially if they kept the door shut. The fire had been going for some time before he heard the bathroom door open. There was movement in the bedroom, drawers opening and closing, before Star finally joined him in the den area. Her face was quite red, as well has her eyes, so he could see that she had been heavily crying, but he had never heard a sound from the bathroom.

Without a word, Star made her way into the kitchen and began to pull items from every corner of it to make them breakfast with. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him. He was not going to push her into revealing this, not at this time. Whatever it was, it was obviously _very_ upsetting to her.

She had dressed in another shirt as well as some sweatpants. Sensible covered warm clothing, he thought, after being so exposed not so long ago. He almost wondered if she were trying to hide the scar under the many layers of clothes.

They made it through breakfast without a single word being spoken between them. Needing something to occupy his hands, he pulled out a couple of his knives and began to sharpen them. Sitting in the chair while lining them up on the hearth in front of him, he would watch her from the corner of his eye.

Star was moving slowly through the kitchen, taking her time cleaning up and washing their few dishes, even wiping the counter for a third time. He saw that she had once again moved the curtain over the sink back so that she could look outside, probably at that damn path again, since the day had finally lightened up just enough through the falling rain.

Every time he had found the window exposed, he had closed the curtain, hoping that she would have forgotten the path.

It was about that time when the lights in the house began to flicker, trying to stay on. Something was going on with the generator.

"Scary?" Star asked, with fear in her voice from where she had turned, standing at the sink to look over at him.

On alert, he needed to make sure that nothing else was going on. He lifted his finger to his lips so that she knew to be silent, and received an understanding nod at the gesture. Picking up a couple of his knives, he tucked them into pockets and around his waist.

Quietly moving over to where Star was standing frozen, he drew one of his k-bar knives, holding it by the blade and offering it to her. Star stared at him for only a moments before taking it. Pointing at the corner behind her, where the cabinets met the oven, he gently used his other hand to move her so that she was now crouching down out of sight of anyone that could possibly come through the front door.

"Stay," his voice was barely above a whisper. Star once again nodded in understanding.

He opened the pantry and removed the flashlight that they had used earlier in the week. He suspected he may need it. Making his way quickly and quietly to the bedroom, he put his boots on, lacing them firmly. He grabbed the keys to the door, then headed over to his gun bag in the corner of the den.

Grabbing two pistols in a holster, he latched them around his waist. Unlocking the front door, he looked out over the open yard through the small window, finding nothing out of place. No sign of anyone, or anything that would draw his attention.

Opening the door, he stepped out onto the small landing, one hand taking a grip on a pistol. Closing the door behind him, he began to make his way over to the generator shed.

* * *

As she heard the front door slowly open and then close, Star stayed crouched down where Scary had hidden her. She could see the top of the back door above the cabinet she leaned against, but she was not too worried about it since someone would have to kick in the locked door to enter the house.

 _Please let it be a problem with the generator_ , she thought.

As the next couple of minutes went by, Star listened for any sign that something was happening outside. There was nothing but the sound of the rain on the roof.

That was when the lights turned off, leaving her in relative darkness. Thanks to the dark clouds, there was barely any light coming through the window even with the curtain open. The corner where she waited was shrouded in darkness actually helping to hide her, not by much, but it was better than nothing, she decided.

She so wanted to get up and see what was going on, but years of being told to hold her place kept Star still. She knew that Scary would not punish her like Kozlov for disobeying, but he would be mad at her and she did not want that. He could sit and brood without her even doing anything to make him mad. Star much preferred Scary when he talked to her. He had not really spoken to her since she left the bed, but it was not the same type of quiet he usually did.

He knew that the scar bothered her. So this time, she had been the one brooding. She didn't want to talk about it, knowing that he would not look at her the same way once he knew what had been done to her.

She knew that quite a few minutes had already passed since the lights went out, but still no Scary.

There was a sound from the front of the house. Gripping the handle of the blade tightly, she listened for the sound again. Then the front door opened, much louder than she would have thought it should have.

"Star," Scary's voice reached her ears. She had never been so happy to hear the voice of her killer. Pulling herself up with the edge of the cabinet, Star looked and found him standing in the door frame. "It's just a simple problem with the generator."

Scary then shut the door behind him and walked over to the kitchen, stopping when he reached the sink. His hair was soaking wet and dripping water on the floor and partially on her, he was so close. He held out the flashlight so that she could take it, which she did curious as to what he was doing.

"There is a small filter on the gas line to prevent debris from getting into the engine. It turns out that it has not been cleaned in a while, and it is partially clogged, preventing the gas from getting through the line. I just need to rinse and dry this out, and then reinsert it, so we should be fine."

Star watched as he held the small mesh item up for her to see, before turning on the faucet and washing out all of the small particles that were blocking it. Putting her knife on the counter, she held the light down on the item while he worked, but her eyes began to shift upwards, out the window to the path again.

She had to know.

"It'll take me just a few minutes to get this back in and the generator restarted," he said, reaching out to take the flashlight from her. She gave him a simple nod of understanding.

Watching Scary walk back out of the house, knowing that there was no real trouble, she decided to take a chance. He would have been madder at her if she had disobeyed while a possible situation had been going on, but now that she knew there was not one, she was willing to take the chance.

Running to the bedroom, she grabbed the boots that he had found for her to wear and quickly put them on. Leaving the bedroom, she was about to head to the front door, but then made the sudden decision to grab the knife he had given her from where she had left it on the countertop. Just because it was a mechanical problem, didn't mean the woods were safe. Seizing the knife, she ran across the house, stopping at the front door.

Looking through the small window on the door, she saw no sign of movement beyond the falling rain.

Opening the door, Star stepped outside, finding the temperature much colder than she had suspected. She had thought that with it raining, it would have been warmer, but no it definitely was not. Closing the door behind her, she kept her eyes towards the generator shed while she made her way down the few steps to the grass. Then she carefully walked backwards, following the house. When she finally reached the corner, she made her turn and began to make her run for the path.

Star kept waiting for Scary to either magically appear before her, or suddenly take a hold of her from behind. She remembered how fast he had moved the other day in the woods...when he had wanted to. Entering the woods finally, she had to slow down due to the puddles that had formed on the path. There was no way to tell how deep they were and she really didn't want to end up with a twisted ankle right here at the end of her life.

Trying to avoid the pools when she could, Star carefully made her way further and further down the path, leading her to… she had no idea where. But since that first day, hearing Kozlov speak of it, seeing the path, then having Scary dissuade her from looking at it, and keeping the curtain closed no matter how many times she had opened it, the path had only gotten her curiosity up.

The area ahead of her was becoming slightly lighter, and she could see what seemed to be a small clearing in the trees. Glancing back, she found the path empty, still no sign of Scary. She slipped the knife into the pocket of her wet sweatpants. Walking into the opening, it was covered in puddles as well with a bit of piled snow around the edges where the tree canopy had prevented the rain from getting to them. There was a large tree stump off to her immediate left side, but it was the three man-made items marking the small disturbed areas of earth ahead of her at the far side of the clearing that now held her attention.

Walking over to the first standing stick, Star saw the very familiar collar with a name tag on it, just like the kind that had been around her own neck. Only this one had the name _Lady_ engraved on it. Making her way around the area, she found the additional two collars marking more graves, _Jewel_ and _Princess_. Where had Kozlov gotten their pet names from? She doubted that it was as simple as them having a tattoo, like she had. Circling around them with her mind spinning as well, she could not help it, but she couldn't look away from them.

This is where she was supposed to have ended up. This is where Kozlov had been ready to bury her. His own private 'pet cemetery'. In the middle of the woods, where nobody would ever find her body. So far from her family, that they would never even have guessed she had left the country.

Star had known that she was not his first pet, but she had no idea that there had been three before her. Kozlov had not really mentioned them, and never by name, but he would tell her of either a punishment they had received, or some other horrible story to help keep her in line.

She finally stopped at the foot of the center grave, standing in the clearing with the cold rain still falling down on her. Her entire outfit was soaking wet, and it felt heavy on her thin limbs, weighing her down. It was the collars that still held her attention. Just like her own. Leather with the metal part in the back, so the small padlock could secure it permanently around their necks.

That was when she heard someone nearby clearing their throat, trying to get her attention. Scary. As quiet as always. Not a single splash of a step in a puddle, or breaking of a twig, as he had arrived.

"I had to know," she simply stated without looking at him. "But you already knew, didn't you? That was why you kept trying to keep me from seeing the path. You knew that they were here."

"I found them the day I arrived."

Scary was close to her now.

"I don't understand why the graves are so small," wondering aloud more for herself as she tried to figure it out. There was something nagging at her, but she just couldn't figure it out. Turning to Scary, his own form as soaked as she was, "Do you know?"

It was the pained look that crossed his face that told her that he did know, his lips pinching together, his brow furrowing.

But he remained silent so she turned back to the graves.

"You had to cut my collar off because you never could find a key. But their collars are hanging, still locked…"

"Star, let's go," he said as she felt his metal hand take a hold of her right one. Instead, she yanked it free.

More like he _let_ her yank it free.

"How did the collars come off without being unlocked?" she firmly asked, almost in a demanding voice. "Why are the graves so small?"

"Star, I'm telling you right now, turn around and walk away from here!" Scary barked out as an order.

Instead, she just turned to face him. His voice was one that must be obeyed, but his face was still pained. Why?

"No! This is where I was supposed to end up!" she yelled while sweeping her arm in the direction of the small graves. "Hell, in what, one, two, three days or so, I _am_ going to end up here, right? It's as good a place as any to finish your mission! Now, you tell me what I want to know!"

Scary stood frozen, staring down at her, the pain on his face suddenly disappearing, being replaced with a clean slate...no emotion, no expression, nothing.

"The ax," he simply stated.


	27. Star and Scary Have A Special Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know who Benji the dog is, look him up so that you get an idea as to what he looks like for when he is mentioned. I always remember him with messy hair, hence the reference.

**Song: _Stop Children What's That Sound_ by Buffalo Springfield**

* * *

What did Scary mean? The ax? The same one they had been using to chop wood?

To chop the wood into smaller pieces. Smaller pieces would mean a smaller hole. The ax chopped them into smaller pieces.

As she began to picture the actual event happening, the answer came to her.

Kozlov would chop his pets into smaller pieces, burying them in the small holes.

With their heads being chopped off from their torsos, the collar would then easily slide off…no key would be needed.

Turning to look back at where the stump was, Star made her way over to it, going to her knees at its side. Touching the top of the exposed growth-ring circle, she could feel the grooves that had been made from the numerous blows of the ax. All of them _deep_ ruts. The surface was splotched with dark stains from where their blood had run and soaked into the wood. That was how Kozlov had disposed of them. This was the last spot any of them had probably been alive.

Star knew how malicious Kozlov could be…could have been. Closing her eyes, she remembered his last drunken rant, with him mentioning making her walk down the path. So, what would have happened then? Kozlov would make them walk down the path, still alive. Probably with at least two or more of his guards with him. Makar and Roman, most likely, since the two of them always seemed to take the most pleasure from watching when Kozlov would punish her. They were now lying in the pile of rotting flesh inside of the guard house.

Then, they all would have gotten to the clearing. Kozlov would need a hole to bury them in. Would he have made his previous pets dig their own graves? Yes, he would have. He was too lazy to do it himself. Then, when they were done, he would have ordered his men to hold them down. Kozlov loved giving cruel speeches about why she was being punished, and as to what was about to happen to her. He would definitely _not_ turn down the chance to taunt her in such a way…one last time.

Then Kozlov himself would have swung the ax. Kozlov would _have_ to have _that_ satisfaction, nobody else would have gotten the pleasure from it that he would have.

Dragging her hands across the rough gashes, Star pictured the other girl's last moments, being pinned down cruelly as they watched him, screaming for their lives, out here in the middle of nowhere, where nobody would save them.

That should have also been her own fate, but then HYDRA had interfered. They had sent Scary here to take Kozlov out, and in doing so, saving her life…at least for a short time.

At least she didn't see Scary following through with Kozlov's original plans for disposing of her.

Running her hands over the rough wood stump, as she again pictured the swinging blow of the ax, she felt the small prick of pain as a splinter pierced her skin. She jerked her hand back, giving a small cry of 'oww' before looking to see how bad it was. There was too much rain falling and it was too dark to see, but it was large enough to feel.

As she stared at her hand, still connected to her arm, she wondered aloud, "I wonder if he chopped off their hands, or just their arms."

Scary's own hand entered her vision, grasping decisively onto her wrist.

Without a word, Scary pulled her up, so that she was once again standing. Making his way towards the path, he pulled her along behind him, his grasp firm enough so that she knew that she could not pull away this time. She had not looked at his face, but she was sure that it was still the same blank expression that had made its way there, as she had asked him to help solve the problem of the small graves.

Eventually, she realized they were standing on the steps of the front porch.

"Take your wet clothes off and go soak in a hot bath," Scary demanded as he crossed his arms and glared at her, rain still falling down on them. His wet, long hair was hiding most of his face, preventing her from judging his emotion right now.

Pulling out the knife from her pocket, she offered it to Scary, who added it to the others which were probably on him. Yanking at the waist of the sweats, the heavy fabric fell to the concrete stoop with a slumping sound. Star then began to pull the soggy shirts over her head at the same time, wincing as the material snagged the splinter. She would figure out how to get it removed after the bath, since she was freezing, even without removing the clothes.

Star did not care that she was standing fully naked in front of Scary at all. He had seen her like this days ago, and she doubted that her frail, ugly form did anything for him. Even with the meals she had been able to eat for the past few days, she was still greatly underweight.

Opening the door, she walked through the house and made a beeline to the tub. She had not been as glad for having cleaned the tub out the other day as she was right now. She turned the water on, not waiting for it to fill as she stepped inside.

Looking over, she had not even realized when she had turned the light on that it had actually worked. Scary had gotten the generator fixed before coming back and finding her gone. She wondered how long it had taken before he had noticed her gone, then figuring out where she had run off to, and discovering her at the gravesites. It was hard to judge how mad he was going to be at her running off, yet again, since he had not yelled at her for leaving, but only when he had tried to get her to leave that place.

She heard the sound of music start to be played from the den. Scary had chosen something to listen to? Willingly? It actually brought a smile to her lips as she listened to the gentle melody. There was now the sound of a drawer in the bedroom closing shut.

From the corner of her vision, she saw movement through the crack in the bathroom door which she had left partially open. She figured that way he could keep an eye on her, hoping that it would partially make up for her behavior. What she did not expect was the bathroom door to fully open, revealing Scary standing there. Wearing nothing but a pair of dry boxers. Holding a very small black bag.

Looking…well, _hot damn_. How twisted was it that she found his metal arm so sexy?

Stepping into the room, he made his way to the side of the tub, sitting down on the floor next to it.

"Hold out your hand," he said, unzipping the bag and rummaging through it.

Star rested her left hand with the splinter in it onto the edge of the tub in front of him, extending the hurt finger. Finding what he was looking for, Scary held up a set of tweezers. Taking her hand into his metal one, he examined her finger, easily finding the offending sliver of wood. Watching him concentrating on snagging the splinter with the pointy tweezers, she wondered why he would even be doing this for her.

She had to have made him angry, and not only today. But in a few days, he was going to complete his mission, just as she had yelled at him. Maybe he had planned on killing her _before_ taking her body to the gravesites, that way she wouldn't have to know what had happened to the others. Maybe he had other plans on how to deal with her body. It would be _simple_ to just toss her in the other house, with all the other bodies. Yes, that was probably what he was going to do.

A short walk next door into the guard house, with a quick bullet then being put into her head.

"Got it," he said, holding the offending item towards the corner behind the toilet, where nobody stood and dropping it to the floor. He packed the tweezers back up in the bag, zipping it closed.

Reaching over to the pile of towels, he picked one up and began to dry his hair off with it, while she just watched him. The water had finally reached near the top of the tub, so she turned the faucet off. When Scary took the towel off of his head, Star let out a loud laugh at the sight before her, covering her mouth with her hand when he looked at her, trying to stifle another laugh.

"What?" Scary asked, not seeing what she was seeing, even looking over his shoulder into the bedroom in case it was something behind him.

"Nothing, Benji," she answered, trying not to smile at the sight, getting a set of very narrowed eyes in her direction. Scary's hair was normally wild, but now being freshly fluffed by the towel, it was sticking up everywhere. He seemed to figure it out himself as he reached up and roughly ran his hands among the mess, trying to fix it his way, which did absolutely nothing. She shook her head as a sign that it had not worked. "Hand me the hairbrush, and then sit with your back against the tub."

Scary reached over to the countertop where the brush was lying, then handed it to her before spinning on the spot, doing exactly as she had asked. She had actually expected a complaint at least. Taking the towel from him, she draped it over his shoulders and then leaned him back against the tub, that way he didn't feel the cold of the cast iron against his back. Sitting herself up, exposing her breast above the waterline, but she felt it didn't really matter. Scary was looking away from her.

Carefully, Star began to use the brush as well as her fingers to untangle the mess that was his mop of hair. Running her fingertips across his scalp, he rested his head back a bit, as if he were relaxing, which he probably was. She guessed that, except for her, Scary never had someone take care of his hair...no brushing, no combing, and definitely, no cutting. HYDRA was more worried about masking his facial features, so leaving it unkempt was the easiest way.

She was about half way through detangling the mess, before Scary spoke.

"I'm not going to be callous when the time comes, Star," his voice was low, like he didn't actually want to speak the words, but had to. "I will _not_ hurt you the way that he was going to. I promise that I will make sure that it is quick, and as painless as possible, just like you asked."

Hearing the topic on which he spoke, Star's hands had frozen in place for a moment.

Resuming to brush his hair, she questioned, "When did I ask that?"

"You were mostly asleep, nights ago," he said with a chuckle. "You are easy to interrogate while you are sleeping."

"That's how you knew about the freezer and ballet," she figured out, as the information fell into place with his confession.

"Yes. What were you worried about this morning, when I mentioned that you had said something _naughty_ in your sleep? You seemed relieved when I told you what you had said."

"Oh, hell, no! I am _not_ going to answer that question, so just drop it, Scary!" she stated firmly, knowing she had just turned fire engine red. She refused to admit out loud that she had been worried about revealing the naughty fantasy she had been having during her dream, which had included him in it. It was the first time she could even remember having that type of dream, and then she had woken up to his body being so close to hers. She was glad that Scary was not able to read minds.

Giving his hair a final run through with her fingers, dropping the brush to the ground, then moving to sit against the back of the tub. The warm water had done its job nicely, she could feel all of her fingers and toes once again. Scary then turned his own body so that he was leaning against the wall facing her. But he kept his focus either in front of him, or on her face, not leering down at her naked form that was barely hidden by the clear water.

"I like how that felt. You don't hurt me when you touch me…like the others at the base do." Scary admitted softly, carefully choosing his words. "Do you mind when I touch you sometimes? Because I like it when I do. It feels nice. I try to make sure that I'm not hurting you…like at the tree, with your fingers."

Star felt her face, no wait, her entire body, start to turn an even brighter red. Bending her knees, she let her body slip further under the water, trying to hide.

This could _not_ be happening right now. How long would it take for her to drown herself?

After a few seconds of being submerged, she felt Scary tapping on her exposed left knee to get her attention. Her hiding space had been discovered, it seemed.

Pushing with her legs, she stopped moving up once only her eyes and nose were exposed. He had left his hand on her knee, which was just at the level of the water now, but he didn't seem to mind his metal hand getting wet. Unfortunately, she didn't mind it being there, which was not good.

"I scared you this morning when I touched you, didn't I?" Scary asked, watching a spot on the floor. "I didn't think of it at the time, but when I pinned you for teasing me, it probably scared you. You were moving, trying to get away..."

Raising her head just enough so that her mouth was above the water's level, Star told him, "No you did not scare be but I said to drop it," before slinking back down a bit further into the water, hoping to hide her face without having to drown herself.

"I did drop it. This is about something else," Scary said innocently.

He really did not understand, she comprehended with a bit of sadness. He had no idea what she had been worried about having possibly revealed to him as she had talked in her sleep. Then there was the fact that when he had held her, it had felt so different than every other time when she had been with Kozlov. The simple, gentle kisses over her tattoo…so intimate, and innocent at the same time. She had wanted him to touch her even more than he had been, but he didn't know how to read the movements that she had done, the gentle rubbing on him as he held her. To him it had meant nothing, he just figured she was trying to escape. It was embarrassing that she felt this way about him. What she was beginning to want, was something that he could not give her.

"I didn't want you to go down the path because I knew what was there. I figured out what had happened when I couldn't find the key to the collar's lock. I…I wanted to protect you."

"And I thought Humbert and Lolita had a twisted relationship," she joked, sitting up a bit more, his metal fingers running over her knee. She wondered just how much feeling he had, could he actually feel her?

"Who?"

"Nope, definitely _not_ explaining that one either, Scary," Star said sighing, leaning back on the tub and just reveling in the warm water.

"Shouldn't there be hair on your legs?"

 _Great, another round of red face_ , she thought as she covered her face with her hands.

"For someone who usually is quiet, you have a lot of questions and comments suddenly. And, yes I should, but for 'easy maintenance', Kozlov brought somebody in who had this chemical, that when applied to the skin, would burn the hair away and prevent any from ever growing again. They used it on my legs, underarms, and…never mind. Let's just say he liked not having to deal with _stuff_ when it came to a pet."

"There you go, using another bad word," Scary said with a smirk on his face.

Star racked her brain at the sentences she had just said, before it click as to what he was talking about. "Maintenance, right? But it only ranks as bad, not naughty?"

"It's one of the terms they use in regards to my arm. They do maintenance, procedures, work, and upkeep. It's not nice when they do the work, it hurts, and they are not sympathetic. But you are, Star. You are the only one who is nice to me. Who is not afraid of me, and I don't know why."

She watched as his face pinched up in embarrassment at the admission of what he had revealed. She had believed that Scary didn't have any emotions left, that the training he kept talking about had taken them away, and maybe it had to some degree, but instead she now figured they were just buried, and he hid them well.

"I've seen, and had, a lot of messed up stuff happen to me in the last few years. You are the least scary part of it, Scary," she smiled at him, reaching up to place her own hand over his metal one. "Upcoming events included."

"You should hate me, Star."

"Instead, I hate the idea of you going back to that base and getting frozen again. But, at least you'll have some fun things to remember from this mission and our time together."

Scary dropped his head, his face showing a new kind of pain, but he did not speak. She gave him some time, in case he was working up the courage to say whatever it was, but eventually he just lifted his head and looked at her with a sad smile.

"Hey, I'm ready to get out now. Do you want to shower or bathe to warm up while I heat up lunch?" Star asked trying to change the subject, seeing that he still looked uncomfortable.

"Wash your hair and then get out. I'll warm up lunch, doll," Scary said, starting to stand with his exposed firm form. Damn, she needed to stop looking at him.

"Aren't you still cold?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine. Just remember your naughty f-word from this morning," Scary told her, giving his eyebrow a slight raise, a wisp of hair falling across his face, while leaving the room and shutting the door closed behind him.

Wait, what? What did Scary mean?

Racking her brain, she tried to figure out why he would consider the word 'furnace' to be a naughty word.


	28. Domestic Scary

**Song: _Who'll Stop The Rain_ by Creedence Clearwater Revival**

* * *

When she finally made it out of the bath and had gotten dressed, making her way out of the bedroom, Star saw that the row of knives Scary had been working on earlier were gone, and he had placed their wet boots on the hearth by the fire in the den. She felt bad now knowing that there was a chance that it would take a day or so for them to dry out. There was a chance that his boots may be better off than the ones she had been wearing, since his actually fit him. Hers were a bit too big, and stepping in all the puddles had soaked her feet pretty good. They were probably all squishy inside. She had not paid attention, or really cared, as Scary had dragged her back to the house.

She had put on a shirt, boxers and sweatpants, a common staple in her limited wardrobe with a second layer of socks to keep her feet warm. A towel was wrapped around her head and hair for now. She figured she would deal with it after eating. It would take too long to brush through and then braid to get it out of the way. At least the den had warmed up considerably since this morning.

Scary was in the kitchen at the stove, stirring the leftover stew he had placed into a large pot. It was strange seeing him do something so normal. Thankfully, he had put on some more dry clothes, specifically a shirt. She was glad they had scavenged the extra clothes from the guards because at the rate they seemed to be going through them, they would all be used. The only problem that Scary had was that none of the guards were as muscular as he was, so all of the shirts seemed to be just a bit too tight.

Unfortunately, it was not in a bad way either. At least she had something nice to look at for her last few days.

"Need some help?" she asked starting to move towards the kitchen.

"None, go sit, it'll be just a few more minutes. I think I got this," he said shooing her away the same way she had done to him before.

"You _think_ you do?" she amusingly asked. Scary just turned her head and gave her a harsh stare.

Taking that as her cue, she went over to sit on the hearth, feeling the warmth from a newly burning log. Looking at the stack of wood now, and then looking back at the window where the rain seemed to have let up some, she began to wonder how long they would be able to keep it going. She knew there were only about three to four days at most left before her time would arrive. After that, knowing how Scary had his own internal furnace, he probably would not need to have a fire. Now, thoughtfully considering the pile, she realized it was a countdown clock for her life. _Great, good depressing thought_ , she told herself.

"Alright, it's ready," Scary said grabbing the bowls with spoons and carrying them to the table. She walked over to where he was, a smile forming on her lips as she looked at him. He innocently asked, "What?"

Reaching up, Star ran a finger over where the powdered sugar still rested on his upper lip, wiping the evidence away of his stolen treats.

"Well, you're _only_ an assassin, not a spy," she said, turning her finger to show him the substance. "I guess that requires a different kind of sneaky-sneaky skill."

"Really," he said crossing his arms. "I seem to remember sneaking up on you a couple of times."

"And yet, you leave evidence of the _crime_ on your lip," Star said, taking a step towards him, poking him in the chest with the powdered sugar covered finger, to which he actually took a step back.

"Now, I know _why_ you wanted to get lunch ready," she continued with another poke, and another step back from him. How was she keeping a straight face?

"Those are supposed to be a treat, once you have _eaten_ your meal," another poke and him, a backwards step.

"You didn't _earn_ them," poke, step, and his back was now up against the wall next to the bedroom door.

It was at that time that the towel, which had been precariously resting on top of her head, decided that it needed to be on the floor. As it fell, all of the mass that was Star's hair came to rest messily, covering her face in a dark brown waterfall. Shaking her head to the sides, she tried to get it out of her face, but no such luck.

"Well, _this_ is not a very threatening look!" she commented from behind the hair.

A strong set of hands then parted the mass right down the center, allowing her to see the smirking look on Scary's face.

"Are you in there?" he asked holding the hair apart.

"Damn mess. That's it!" Star said taking a step back. Heading towards the kitchen, opening the first drawer and beginning to rummage through it. She began to mumble to herself, "Where were those damn scissors? I _know_ I saw a pair."

A second after the words had left her mouth, both of her wrists were grasped firmly by a set of hands whose arms were wrapped around her. Lifting her hands from the drawer, Scary brought their arms up, so they rested against her chest, his arms cradling her into a firm hug.

"Please don't cut your hair, Star," he asked in a soft voice.

"What?"

"I like…I don't want …" he started but he couldn't finish the statement.

Even given their talk in the bathroom, Star knew that he was still having a hard time trying to explain what was going on inside of him. He didn't express himself easily, and this was another big admission for him, even if he didn't know the words. Turning around where she stood, he dropped his hold on her wrists. Parting the hair so that she could see him better, she just nodded her head in agreement with his wishes.

"Ok, Scary. I won't cut it," Star said, reaching around his chest to give him a hug. His arms then wrapped their way around her, holding her against his warm form.

Star had no idea why the cutting of her hair meant so much to him, and she actually guessed that he had no real idea why it did either. Maybe it was just something different that he was not used to seeing, being around military people with their short haircuts. Maybe it was because it was the only way that he had known her, and he didn't like the idea of change. She could deal with it for a few more days, then it wouldn't matter.

She let the hug continue until he finally pulled away.

"Our food is going to be cold," Scary said, releasing her to step over to the table, looking down as if he was almost embarrassed at the intimate encounter they had just had.

"Grab the bowls and head over to the couch," Star said picking the towel up off of the floor and heading back into the bedroom. "I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, she hung up the towel so it could be drying, and grabbed the ponytail holder. Gathering up the long mess, and twisting it around a couple of times, she was able to wrap the holder around it enough so that it formed a messy bun at the back of her head. That would be as good as it was going to get until after she ate. Grabbing the hairbrush, she turned the light off and headed out.

Back in the den, she found Scary sitting on the couch, which was still directly in front of the fireplace, already eating his food. The record had stopped, so she took a moment to put another one on for some background sounds, besides having to listen to the rain. Hopping over the back of the couch, Star landed with a bounce next to him on his right.

Reaching to where he had left her bowl on the hearth, she put the hairbrush down and picked the bowl up, and began to eat, stretching her feet out so they rested as close to the fire as she could stand. Scary then followed suit, matching her stance, but then leaning his heavy frame slightly onto hers.

"Why haven't we been doing this all along?" he asked taking another bite.

"Because it's hard to eat some meals when they require cutting with a knife, like steaks. But also, I grew up always having to sit at a table during mealtime. 'No eating in the den' was my mother's mantra," Star said taking another bite.

"But we were eating popcorn in here the other day," he pointed out.

"That was a snack, not a meal. Just eat your food. Don't make me send you back over to the table," she said pointing her spoon at the distant item. That seemed to satisfy him enough so that he finished eating and cleaned the bowl without another word.

Once they were done, they sat their bowls down on far ends of the hearth, out of the way enough so they didn't get kicked. Star reached over and grabbed a hold of one of the blankets, spreading it out over the two of them.

"Did you know that it was going to rain? Is that why you had the wood brought inside?" she asked after they had been sitting there comfortably in silence for a couple of minutes. She rubbed her hands together to try and get her fingers to warm up, wondering how they could be getting cold already.

"No, I actually thought that it would get wet from the snow melting," he said, stretching his arm underneath the blanket until he found her clasped hands. He began to rub his warm hand over hers, helping to warm them back up quickly, she realized. Even once they were warm, he kept a hold of hers. It was a few minutes later when she spoke again.

"I need to brush my hair, before it dries all tangled," she told him, hating to have to pull her hands away from his warm one. Turning so that she was facing him, her back away from the couch, she grabbed the brush and began the tedious task. As she did so, she could easily see Scary just watching the movements, fascinated like he had been the last time she had done this. When she was done, and it was still hanging loose, she thought of something.

"Would you like to play with my hair some?"

"You would let me do that?" he asked curiously.

"Sure," she said handing the brush to him, and then thought to ask, "You've been wanting to play with my hair for a while, haven't you?"

The dropping of his head was all the answer that she needed, bringing a smile to her face at the silent admission.

"Spread your legs," she told him, which made his head shoot upward, very quickly. When he did so, she put a pillow on the floor to sit on, and then sat down onto it, her back against the couch with his legs on either side of her shoulders. Gathering her hair up, she let it rest behind her in a pile on the area of couch between his legs.

As Scary began to gently brush a section of her hair, she wrapped her arms around his upper calves, pulling them in tight to her body to wrap her in their warmth. Sitting like that for a while, neither of them speaking, she felt him brush as well as just caress her hair. The simple actions were calming to the point where, not long after, she found herself relaxing, and starting to yawn every once in a while. The gentle sound of the rain, the crackling of the fire, the warmth coming from Scary, the tender touches he was giving her, all of them were making her sleepy.

After a while, Scary put the brush down on the hearth, off to the side away from the fire, and then moved his legs apart, freeing her from their enclosure.

"Come here," he said, putting his hands underneath her arms, and lifting her back onto the couch next to him. Leaning over to his left, he guided her body to follow his movements, so that they were now laying down side by side on the couch. Star grabbed the blanket and tossed it over the two of them, not sure if Scary really needed it. But after only a moment, stuck between him and the fire, she was reveling in the warmth of her position.

Scary was using his left arm as a makeshift pillow, while she did the same with her own arm. His right arm had reached over and was resting over her side, his hand rubbing just above her belly button. Their legs had twisted together into a messy pile. Lying there, Star felt calm and happy. It didn't take her long before she was asleep.

Star had no idea how long she had slept, and she wasn't even sure if Scary had slept himself, when she finally woke up. The fire was still going, but she could see that it needed to have more wood added to it. Listening and feeling his chest moving at a steady pace, she figured that he had fallen asleep also, comforted in the situation. She never would have thought that assassins took naps.

Giving her body a small stretch, she tried to not wake him up. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do. It wasn't even late enough to start dinner yet. Lying in the warm, comfortable position, Star figured she just needed to enjoy this moment.

But, she must have moved just enough with her stretching to stir Scary in his sleep, because she felt him begin to move his own body. At first, she figured that he was also just stretching, but then his left arm began to slide down so that it was moving underneath of her head, until it made its way just past her shoulder, surrounding her body. He then brought his left arm and hand upwards, so that it wrapped over her breasts and it pulled her firmly into his chest. His right hand, which had been resting over her belly, then began to move also. His palm flattened out and began to rub across her entire stomach area. His legs, still wrapped with hers, began to tighten so that she could not move them, immobilizing her to the spot.

The tight encasement that Scary was now holding her in brought butterflies to her belly. But, when his right hand that was still circling began to head lower over her pants, closer to between her legs, Star took in a sharp inhale of breath. When his hand finally stopped its movement, it rested just above her warm crotch. Then his hand began to press against her, pushing her hips hard against his own. Star's eyes went wide as she felt his member begin to harden against her, wedging itself against her lower body, rubbing the soft space between her legs. She could feel her own body starting to respond to his touch.

Then his left hand, which was across her chest, began to follow the shape of her right breast, his fingers tracing the outline of it, before his thumb began to move towards the center, his metal thumb rubbing over her shirt, discovering her nipple, making it hard. Star was shocked, not only that he was touching her so intimately, but that she felt her body wanting him to continue.

But, as the moments passed, his hands never went any further, and then they stopped their movements, resting near where they had been, but no longer giving her what she was wanting. Her stretching must had just barely touched his senses as he was sleeping, that was why he had begun his caresses. How could his automatic response to feeling her in his arms as he slept be to arouse her? His own body had _definitely_ responded at feeling her against him. Was it just a normal male response, or something else?

Star laid still, in his arms, for almost an hour she guessed, thinking about what it had felt like for him to touch her, so gently, and how much she had liked it, before Scary actually began to stir and wake up fully this time. His own stretches were what finally released her from the imprisonment of his body. He had not moved any more, at all, not even to release the firm hold he had on her. What worried her was the fact that she had liked it.

"Star, are you alright?" Scary asked as he suddenly pulled his left arm back from being around and underneath her.

"I'm fine, why?" she asked using her arms to prop herself up into a sitting position. Scary pushed himself back away from hers so that he was on the other side of the couch, as far away as he could be from her.

"My arm. I didn't hurt you, while I slept?" he asked squeezing his hand into a fist, his arm making the noise as the panels moved around.

"No, you just wrapped it around me. That's all," she said lying…well, maybe omitting, and hoping that he could not tell. There was no way she was going to tell him what had happened, how he had moved or touched her in his sleep. To play it off, she stood up and took a log from the pile and put it onto the fire, then reached for another one. By the time that she sat back down on the couch, he seemed a bit less worried, his arm no longer making the noises.

"The rain finally stopped," she informed him, trying to change the subject. Did he remember what he had done? Had he dreamed about it? What do assassins dream of?


	29. Scary Comes To A Decision About Star

**Song: _Dust in the Wind_ by Kansas**

* * *

Glancing towards the window, he saw that she was right, the rain had finally stopped. Which was really good because, at that moment, he _really_ wanted to be outside. Away from Star.

"I'm going to do a perimeter walk," he said, standing up and heading to the bedroom, where most of his uniform was, in one of the drawers she had set aside as his.

He didn't have _anything_ that was _his_ , only his weapons and gear...a disturbing thought.

Opening the drawer, he quickly changed into the clothing that was inside, his mission outfit, his leathers and vest. He stared at the face mask, not wanting to put it on, but right then he knew that he needed to. Picking it up, he fit it around his face and neck, taking a calming breath as the familiarity began to settle in. Next, he gathered a couple of guns and knives, each one securing to their place across his body, feeling them in his hands making him feel more like himself.

Leaving the bedroom, he saw Star still sitting on the couch. When she heard him leave the room, she turned to look at him and he saw, for a moment, the slight widening of her eyes at the sight of him. Would she fear him now? She did not move and she also did not say anything. She just looked at him. Moving over to the couch, he took his waterproof boots from their place by the fire, putting them on and then lacing them up without a word to her. They had not gotten wet like hers had earlier, during her spree to the grave-sites, but now they were warm for his feet.

Once he was finished, fully prepped and ready to go, he walked around the couch over to where the chain was lying on the floor, not having been used in a while, he realized. But it would be now. Without hesitation, he picked the cuff up and rounded to the front of the couch, so that he was next to her. Star quickly lifted her foot and placed it onto the hearth, making it easy for him to reach her ankle. She knew what was expected of her and did not try and complain, especially after this morning's stunt. He locked it into place around her sock and put the key back into his pocket. He then headed to the front door.

"I'll be gone a few hours," he simply told her opening the door, barely turning his head to look at her.

"Alright," she replied while still looking at him, with those eyes.

Closing the door behind him, he headed down the steps to the nearest path opening, leading into the woods, no actual destination in mind. He just started walking the paths circling the house, starting with the inner ring, as he thought of them, picturing their layouts in his mind to try and distract him, once again, from Star.

When he had woken up and found that he had grabbed around her with his arm, his first thought was that he had possibly crushed her with it as he had slept. When she had finally moved, letting him know that he hadn't, it was a relief. But if he was worried about hurting her, how was he going to deal with completing his mission? It always came back to that thought. Finishing the mission.

There was _no way_ he could continue staying with her in the house. It was effecting him much more than he had thought possible the other day. He had told himself that it would be fine, that he could handle being around her with what he was feeling, and then just letting the Chair do its job of removing all of it, after he had completed his mission. But, he had not thought that it would keep getting worse as he stayed around her.

Earlier, he had admitted that he was trying to _protect_ her from learning the truth of the grave-sites.

And then, when he had woken up from their nap, he had been worried that _he_ had _injured_ her.

What he needed to do was to go ahead with his plan and kill Star, to complete his mission.

But not today.

He had agreed to allow her to leave her information for her parents and authorities. He would not deprive her of that, not with what she had been through. But when he got back, he needed to inform her that she needed to go ahead and write the information down.

That way, tomorrow he could finish the mission, to kill Star.

Once she was removed from his presence, all of these emotions and feelings would quit, would go away. Then he could just use the house as shelter, as he had originally intended to a week ago, when he was sent here to work.

No more distractions. No more confessions. No more Star.

At this point, he had walked around the house five times following the strange twisting circular paths that the guards had worked into the woods, moving further and further from the house. As he was crossing the drive to the house for the fifth time, he glanced out to where the road headed back towards civilization. Off in the distance, with the sun barely breaking through the remaining clouds, he spotted something.

He examined the surrounding area carefully, before exposing himself by leaving the woods. Walking down the edge of the dirt road, staying in the grassy areas to prevent footprints, until he made his way to the spot on the ground that had gotten his attention.

On a water puddle that had gathered in a low area, there was a rainbow liquid, motor oil, floating on the surface of the water. The ground around it did not show any deep rutted tire tracks, which meant that the oil had been on the ground since _before_ the rain had started during the night, maybe even before the snow.

But, had it been there all along? The only reason he had noticed it this time was due to it floating on the water. It was not just a drop or two. There was enough oil for him to estimate that whatever vehicle it had come from had been parked on the spot for at least a short amount of time.

He headed down the drive towards the main road that all vehicles coming here would have to travel on. The entire way there, he spotted nothing out of the ordinary. No other tire marks, and definitely none made in the mud that was everywhere. The oil spot had to have been old. Maybe even from a local's vehicle that had broken down and been pushed down the drive, to be out of the way since it was not too far from the paved road. Moving back into the cover of the woods, his mind focused on the oil spot as he continued on, checking more paths, anything else occupying his mind.

Hours later, he had lost count of the number of perimeter rounds he had made, and the sun mostly gone. Opening the front door, it was the wonderful scent that assaulted him which made him stop. But it was seeing Star sitting at the table, a piece of paper and the pencil they had found in the truck in her hand, that caught his attention.

When she heard him opening the door, she had looked up from her writing and glancing towards him, looking as if he had caught her doing something she should be guilty of. She didn't have the normal warm greeting for him that he had come to expect, instead having a sad look about her. But there was only one thing that she would be doing with those items. Exactly what he was going to tell her to do, write out her information. She had done it without him even having to demand it of her.

Stepping inside, he got a quick, "Stop!" yelled at him from Star. He froze in place, wondering why she would be yelling at him. Star stood up from the table and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed the dish towel. Making her way over to him, she gently fell to her knees in front of him. He looked down at her, her hair falling loose down her back and over her shoulders, a lovely brown shroud. How he wanted to reach down and run his fingers through it again. She began to unite his boots, working the laces easily. Once they were both all the way undone, she told him to step out of the shoes. As he lifted his foot, Star used her hands to hold the boots into place.

He watched as she then picked up the muddy shoes and began to wipe the floor, where he had begun to track the mud into the house. From the kitchen, the timer on the oven began to make an annoying buzzing sound. Star spread the dishtowel on the floor next to the door and put his boots on top of it, to collect the mud and debris that had collected on the soles.

"I need to check on that," she said, heading into the kitchen area to deal with whatever it was filling the house with that delicious scent.

Yes, he decided, he needed to complete his mission tomorrow. He couldn't stand enjoying this for too much longer.

* * *

Star sat on the far right side of the couch with a blanket wrapped around her, only her head visible, her legs drawn up to her chest under the cover. Since he had returned, Scary had not spoken a single word. That had to have been about three to four hours ago. While he was gone, she had pulled out the last of the apples and found a tin that she used to make as close to an apple pie as she could. It had turned out fine, but instead of the warm reaction from Scary, he had simply eaten it, after his entire dinner of course, without a word.

She knew that there were only a few days left, and so did he. That was why, as the pie was cooking, she had pulled the paper from the van out and written down her basic information. Scary had brought up while she was in the tub about how her time was drawing close. All she had was his word that he would actually let her information be found. She guessed that if it would compromise his mission, that he would tell her and not lie to her. He hadn't lied to her so far, from what she could tell. But, all that she had was his word, the word of an assassin.

When she went to write her address, she actually began to wonder if her family would still be living in the same house. There was always a chance that they had moved after she had disappeared, but she would never know. Still, she wrote her name and address as if it were on the front of an envelope.

Did they assume that she had run away, as she had always guessed they would by her actions? There was no way she could go into detail about what had happened that day, but she hoped that if they did read it, they would know that coming all the way to Russia had not been by her own choice.

So, instead, she had chosen to write them a simple message: _Hi everyone_. _I've missed you.  
_

That was all that they needed to know, not all of the horrible stuff that had been done to her. Hopefully, they would never learn about that. She wasn't sure how the authorities would handle that information. They wouldn't know, would they? Would finding Kozlov's body here make them research her and discover why she had been here? Did the police files on gang criminal mentioned when they kept sex slaves?

Would the police search the paths and find the other girls' graves? She hoped so, but there was a very good chance that their parents would never know what happened to them. They never even had the chance to write a note for home. They didn't even have proper names on their graves, just whatever Kozlov had decided to call them.

After Scary had returned, he had changed back into comfortable clothes, but it was easy to see that he was once again brooding. But just as she had before, she could see his demeanor change into one that didn't want to speak. She had tried putting on a few records with an upbeat melody, but after a while, seeing that they had no effect on him, she put on something more melancholy to match the atmosphere of the house's occupants. He didn't even seem to get the slight morbid joke she was trying to accomplish with the current song. She wanted him to stand up and take it off, tell her that he didn't find it funny. She just wanted him to do _something_.

Earlier when they had woken up, he had seemed to have been very worried about what he may have done with his arm as he slept, asking if she was hurt. Was that all that was bothering him, or was it also the fact that another day had passed? Had he remembered a little bit of what had happened while he was sleeping? She didn't think so, feeling that he would seem more embarrassed, and not the darkness he was exuding. For all she knew, it could be something else entirely that had him sitting opposite of her, as far as he could get from her, but still be on the couch. It was getting late, and even with the very strange, emotionally conflicting nap, she felt worn-out.

"I want to go to the bedroom," Star simply stated as she rose from the couch, dropping the blanket in a heap where she had been sitting. Lifting her leg so that her foot rested on the couch, so he wouldn't even have to move, she offered it to him, so that he could remove the cuff. Scary took the keys from his pocket and unlocked her, only the sound being that of the chain hitting the floor.

 _No comment from the peanut gallery_ , she thought.

Without another word, she walked around the couch and entered the bedroom, heading straight for the chain located in there. Picking it up from where it lay next to the bed, she turned and was surprised to find that Scary had followed her into the room, so quietly that she had not even been able to tell.

"Alright, you are sneaky," she said giving him a slight smile, holding the cuff out to him.

Scary didn't let his expression change in the slightest at the joke she tried to make about their conversation from earlier.

He took the cuff, bent down, and locked it into place without a word. Standing back up, he stepped over to the fireplace and added a couple of pieces of wood to the fire, a few more than she would think was necessary. She headed into the bathroom and closed the door for privacy, since he didn't seem to care about anything right now.

Taking her time, she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. She realized that the hairbrush was still out on the hearth when she looked for it to give her hair a final brushing for the day. She had not braided it, even after Scary had left the house, letting it fall loose, figuring that he would like to see it like that. But of course, he had said nothing about it when he had returned. Turning the light out and leaving the bathroom, she found that Scary was no longer in the room. In fact, he had closed the bedroom door. Had he done that so the fire could warm the room up for her?

She figured that wearing the sweats to bed would be fine, and a single shirt would suffice with how warm the room had gotten when the door had been closed. Especially if Scary came to the bed later. Pulling the covers back, she gathered a length of chain and laid it out of the way, so that her socked feet didn't touch the cold metal during the night.

It was then that she wondered about wearing the chain tonight. When Scary had slept in the bed with her, he had not locked her up, but tonight when she had offered it, he had not protested, and she had not thought about it. She was used to being secured in some way, so she had just assumed and offered it to him.

Crawling into the bed, she rolled over so that she was watching the closed door that he had used to separate them. The fire was starting to rage and it was giving off a lot of light, not to mention heat. There was no way she was getting cold if it stayed like that. Looking at his empty side of the bed, she wondered exactly what he was thinking about out in the den.

Star was hating the fact that she was in here alone, and that he was out there, almost a bit mad at him for sulking the way he had been doing for the past few hours. She had gotten used to him giving her the little touches, and she was not even talking about what had happened during nap-time. Even when he had just put his hand on her knee while she was in the tub, it had been nice. She had gotten so used to being hurt when she was touched, because of Kozlov, yet here was an assassin, her killer, being nicer to her than anyone had been in so long.

As the room continued to warm, she began to let the covers slightly fall from how she had them pulled all the way up to her neck. Putting the sheets under her arm, she rested her arm on top of the bed.

After a few moments of not being able to get comfortable, she grabbed the pillow from Scary's side and wrapped her arm around it. His pillow instead of him. That was all the comfort it seemed that she was getting tonight.

Star finally allowed her eyes to close, once the burning feeling of the tears stopped.


	30. Day Seven - Star Is Startled

**Song: _Bad Moon Rising_ by Creedence Clearwater Revival**

* * *

**Day Seven  
**

* * *

As he woke up, yet again, he felt like he had barely gotten any sleep during the night. Actually, he knew that he had not. Sleeping on the couch, alone, just like when he had arrived here, was just as miserable as he had remembered it to be.

It had been so much better yesterday afternoon, when Star had been in his arms. But that was not going to happen again. He had slept out here, away from her, because he needed to.

After she had gone into the bedroom, he had taken a moment to look over the paper where she had written her information. He did not focus on the name or address, because to him, she would always be Star. But he was curious at the simple message she had left.

After not having seen her family for years, he had expected a long-winded message, but she seemed to be someone of few words. How much do you really put down knowing that you are going to die, he wondered?

Not a lot, it seemed.

Looking over at the fire, it was still going strong from the last log that he had put on at some point during the past few hours. It was probably less than that, considering how often he kept opening his eyes as his mind messed with him. There had been two times that he had sat up and _almost_ went into the bedroom, to lay in the bed one final time with her.

But he had made himself stay on the couch. He was already too attached to the target.

There was no light coming in from the windows, they were dark, and it told him that it was still very early. As he lay there, listing to the fire crackle, he wondered how Star had slept during her last night. Not that she knew that it was, of course. No, he was not going to tell her. If she knew, she would fight him, they always did.

No matter what she had said the other day, if she saw him coming, she would beg.

And if she did, he didn't know what he would do.

That was why at some time, during one of the many times that he had woken up and his mind started racing, that he had realized he needed to figure out what he was going to do, how he was going to kill her.

He would gather his gear, just like he had yesterday, after their nap together. He would head out to the lake, where he had taught her to shoot his gun. He would then focus, mentally prepare himself, just like he would for any other mission. Concentrate on the target, analyze their situation, decide on the best way to complete the mission, and then he would come back here to do just that.

His target, Star, liked listening to music when he was not here. That would work to his advantage. The sounds coming from the record player, that he had learned to use, would cover up any noise that he may make, not that she had been able to hear him any of the other times.

But this time, she _could not_ hear him.

That was when he heard a strange thump come from the bedroom, almost as if something had jolted the door, where Star had slept alone in the bed, without him holding her. Getting up, he carefully made his way to the door, putting his ear close, but not hearing anything else. Turning the door knob gently, he cracked it open.

Star must have seen the door opening, because by the time there was enough room to put his head inside, she was lying in the bed, staring at him with cold eyes like he had never seen on her. Opening the door a bit more, he discovered what had caused the thumping sound. His pillow was lying on the floor behind the door.

"What?" she asked, rolling over away from him, so that she could get out of the bed. He heard the chain slinking down to the floor with its metallic sound. He simply looked down at the pillow wondering why she had thrown it against the door. As if hearing his thought, she responded, "It offended me."

With that, Star went into the bathroom and closed the door, a bit louder than she normally did, not quite a slam, but hard enough so that he knew something was bothering her.

Did she know? Had she figured out that he was planning on killing her today? Is that why she had thrown the pillow, his pillow, in the direction that he had been, out in the den?

Star then emerged from the bathroom, with her hair now braided, walking with purpose around the bed, and coming to a stop right in front of him as he took up the entire doorframe. With a firm plant of her foot, she presented him with the cuffed ankle.

Taking a deep breath, he reached into the pocket and produced the key, unlocking her for the last time from the bedroom. Star somehow managed to squeeze between him and the doorframe, making it into the den.

Again, with purpose, she walked right over to the chain and cuff, not even looking at him. He did not like her being this way. He had wanted her to be happy in these last few hours, but it seemed that she was not going to be. Walking over to her, he then began the process of locking her up for the last time.

Star then put a couple of logs onto the already going fire, getting it going for the day. As he turned to head into the bedroom and gather his gear, she silently walked into the kitchen, probably to start breakfast.

He shut the bedroom door and put all of his gear onto the bed. He specifically made sure that the Gerber Mark II knife he had sharpened the other day was part of today's collection. It was going to be responsible for completing his mission.

Moving into the bathroom, he began the process of shaving off the beard growth from the past two days, while they had been stuck inside of the house together. Afterwards, he changed out of the warm clothes, and into his cold leather mission outfit. With every buckle of his vest, he kept telling himself that his mission must be completed, that he had never failed to do so before, and today would not be the first.

Running his hands through his hair, he made a point to make sure that it was falling down over his face, covering him up the way that it should. No target should see his face. Holding the face mask in his hands, he stared at it for a bit too long. Securing it into place, he stood there for a moment, taking in the familiar feelings of his outfit.

Taking the other knives and securing them to the holsters all around his body, he left the Gerber lying on the bed. His gun holster, along with a couple of pistols, he secured around his waist. He would not need them, but never underestimate a target. Looking down at the final remaining item, he picked it up, and ran his finger over the edge, making sure that it was as sharp now as it had been yesterday when he had sharpened it, not knowing at that time what its next use was going to be. He slipped it into place.

Taking a step towards the closed door was when he realized that there was a missing part of his outfit: his boots. They were still sitting by the front door on the towel. Where Star had placed them to keep the mud off of the floor.

Looking out of the window, he saw that he had prolonged his preparation long enough so that there was just a bit of sun lighting up the tree tops. He needed to get out of here, and away from the target.

Opening the bedroom door, he walked right over to where his boots were resting, just like he knew they were. Bending down, he picked them up and then unlocked the front door. Turning the handle, he heard the sound of Star in the kitchen. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught the sight of her standing at the stove, stirring something in the pot, whose handle she grasped in her soft hand. She was not looking at him right now, but he figured that she probably had when he had first appeared.

Stepping onto the front stoop, he closed the door behind him, leaving it unlocked so re-entry would be easier, stealthy. Sitting down on the steps, he began to put his boots on. In no time, he was ready to leave. To give his target time to get comfortable in the house for the last time. For her to let her guard down, so he could complete the mission.

Heading down the path to the lake, there was barely any light to guide him, but he knew the path well, especially after how many times he had traveled it yesterday, as a way to stay away from the house, from Star. When he finally reached the lake, he stood rigid, staring out over it, the morning light showing the small ripples caused by the gentle cold breeze. There was a reflection of the half moon still visible in the sky. He noticed as he looked up, that there was one bright star right next to the moon. He concentrated on it, planning his movements back to the house.

He would have to listen to see if she had started the record player, as she always seemed to. Would she be sitting on the couch to be near the fire? If so, a firm strike right into her brain stem with his knife would be the best way then. Would she be in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up from the last meal she would ever eat? If so, then coming up from behind and giving a strong stab through her back, just to the left side of her spine into her heart, would work. Both would be quick, and that was what he had told her he would do.

He stood, not moving, and staring out over the water, giving his target time to settle in.

* * *

Star had glanced towards the bedroom when she had heard him walking out. There was a very low rustling sound from his leather pants sliding together as he walked. Why had she not realized that before? Scary had gone directly to his shoes, still not speaking to her, even though she figured he had to have realized she was mad at him for being so distant. But maybe he needed to be. She knew that he was not comfortable with her sometimes, and it confused him. This time was just worse than all of the previous ones.

Even with being mad at him, she presumed that he would eat breakfast with her. She had made enough oatmeal for the both of them, a double helping for him actually. He had yet to pass up a meal, so when he had picked up his boots and left without a word, she wasn't sure if she was more angry or sad at being left alone, once again. Let him be grumpy, if that was what he needed, she decided.

When he got back, she would deal with him, find out what had gotten him into this funk, and maybe she would make the last of the popcorn, and they would drink the last of the sodas, and they could spend the day on the couch again. She doubted that he even noticed that she had braided her hair because she was mad at him. If he calmed down, she would take it out so that he could play with it again. He seemed to have enjoyed doing that yesterday.

Making herself a bowl of the oatmeal, she looked in the fridge and found that there was a shortage of fruit that could be added in. Still enough in her own angry mood, Star figured that if she held a knife to carve anything up, she would probably ended up slaughtering the innocent fruit into small mushy pieces. Closing the fridge door, she opened up the pantry and got out the small bottle of cinnamon, adding a very generous amount. It was the best that she was going to be able to do right now.

Putting the bottle back on the shelf, she noticed the tin of Turkish Delight sitting a shelf down. Opening it up, she found that there were hardly any pieces missing since the last time she had opened it up. Except for however many Scary had eaten while she was in the tub, it seemed that he had probably not touched it at all during the night. He must _really_ be in a funk to pass up _that_ opportunity.

Heading over to the couch, she put the bowl and spoon down onto the hearth and wrapped the blanket all the way around her, leaving only from her arms up free as well as her socked feet. Sitting down strategically in the middle of the couch, she wanted to make sure that when Scary came back, that he would be forced to be right next to her, _if_ he would sit down. Hopefully, he was out in the woods punching a couple of trees and rocks to work whatever it was out of his system.

Sitting back, she propped her feet up on the hearth, letting them get toasty warm from the fire that had not actually needed more wood. Scary must have put a log onto it before opening the bedroom door, judging by how little it had burned down when she had added to it earlier.

It was about halfway through her breakfast when she heard the sound of footsteps in the front yard. She had expected Scary to have been gone much longer, especially with how moody he had seemed to be. Hearing the front door open behind her, Star decided that she was not going to let him continue to ignore her.

"There's plenty of oatmeal on the stove for you, and it's still hot, Scary," she said, as she heard the booted footsteps behind her entering the house.

But, when she heard the very familiar sound of a gun being cocked, she froze, the oatmeal bowl in one hand, a spoon in the other. As the cold metal muzzle of the gun then rested against the back of her head, all she could think was ' _that's why he was avoiding me'_. That was when the yelling in Russian started. Why would Scary yell at her knowing she didn't speak Russian?

Then, she next heard the sound of more footsteps crossing the hardwood floor. Turning her head very slowly, she could only make out the dark brown coat that was being worn by whoever was holding the gun to her head. Scary had _not_ left here in a coat like that. Glancing upward slowly, she finally was able to make out the face of the stranger.

He yelled at her again, more Russian, but this time pressing the gun to her forehead. Her training came back to her.

"{Sir, I do not speak Russian. Sir, I am American,}" she informed him in Russian, as calmly as she could staring up past the gun to make eye contact with the man.

What was he doing here? Nobody was supposed to be coming here. Except Scary's team, or whoever was supposed to be picking him up. Could that be who they were?

But the man in front of her was not wearing military clothing, he was dressed like a normal person, with a heavy coat.

Suddenly, another man appeared from inside of the bedroom, yelling in Russian to his companion. The man in front of her pressed the gun into her forehead painfully, continuing to yell at her.

"{Sir, I do not speak Russian!}" she stated a bit louder, thinking that if the first man would not listen to her, then maybe the second man would.

The two men then spoke harshly to each other, the other pointing his own gun at her as he used it to gesture as he spoke. The second man then stormed off to the front door, and called out the name Aleksey. There had to be at least one more of them outside, she guessed, but there could be more. Why were they here?

After a moment, the man, Aleksey, appeared at the front door, also dressed normally, and also with his own gun.

The three men continued to talk for a moment, most of their words lost on her, but then she heard the one word that made her grow cold: Kozlov.

They were here for Kozlov. The one closest to her, still pressing the gun to her head, gestured for Aleksey to come closer. They spoke for a moment before Aleksey looked down at her. He almost looked familiar, but she was not sure why. There had been so many men under Kozlov, and she had not tried to memorize their faces. They had not mattered to her. Aleksey then spoke to her in English.

"What is your name?" he demanded in a heavy Russian accent.

Star didn't answer, she only moved slowly by lowering the bowl and spoon from their raised position near her head, as she had been about to take a bite before all of this began. She put the spoon in the bowl and then, without looking, reached behind her to place them on to the hearth.

"You are Kozlov's pet, yes?" he asked with a sinister look, pointing his own gun at her head. Her eyes grew wide at hearing that.

Star refused to answer that question, which made Aleksey reach over the back of the couch and grab a hold of where her braid started near the top of her head. As she screamed in pain from his grasp, he used his strength and pulled her entire body over the couch, and deposited her onto the hard floor on her side, the length of chain following her ankle.

The blanket she was wrapped up in had taken the trip with her, but then the first man then reached down and grabbed a hold of it, yanking it hard. With it being swaddled around her, her entire body spun at least once before she hit the floor again, this time landing painfully on her back.

A gun, inches from her forehead, occupied all of her vision as she looked up between the two men, causing her to stop all movement.

Aleksey said something, to which the first man put his gun away and reached down, taking a hold of her shirt collar with both of his hands. With a firm pull, he tore the fabric into two, separating the front of her shirt to expose her bare chest. Yanking the shirt off of her right side, he exposed her small pink star tattoo.

They knew who she was, they knew that it was there.

As the first man backed off, the man called Aleksey said, " _You_ are the one responsible for my brother's death," as he crouched down closer to her, touching her tattoo with the point of his gun, jabbing the metal hard into her skin enough to push her shoulder down.

"You killed Dmitri."


	31. Death is the better option

**Song: _Keep Yourself Alive_ by Queen**

* * *

"You killed Dmitri."

Star instantly knew that name, figuring out why the man before her looked familiar. Focusing on him, she realized how much he looked like his dead brother. It was barely a month ago when the event happened. But it was not _her_ fault that Dmitri had decided to betray Kozlov.

While Kozlov had been the one who had ordered his brother's death, he had just made her choose the way he would die, along with the other two men who had tried to overthrow him. She would never forget the screams and curses in her direction as they had all died painfully. But it had been better than the option Kozlov had given her for disobeying him.

The first man then noticed the chain that was secured to her ankle, grabbing it up into this hand. As he stood, it pulled her leg up into the air along with the lower half of her body, the metal cuff digging through her sock and into her skin, with him laughing at her situation. The three men then began to discuss something angrily in Russian as she dangled in the air.

Giving her leg a firm yank, Star managed to pull the chain free from his grasp. As her body hit the floor, she rolled over onto her front and tried to scramble towards the kitchen, hoping to at least be able to get a knife. By the time she was about to pass the table, she felt the give that the chain had stop, as one of the men grabbed it.

Star then found herself being pulled back towards the three men painfully by her ankle. She gave a loud scream as she was dragged, her nails making scraping sounds as she clawed at the floor to try and stop her movement, to which the reaction was a round of laughter before feeling a booted foot pressed hard into her back. The foot continued to press harder and harder, to the point where she was finding it difficult to breathe, her ribs being ground into the floor as she cried out in pain.

They talked for a moment, the entire time Star reached out with her hands, trying to find a grip to help to pull herself free, but with no luck.

Star then felt a gun pressed to the back of her head, causing her to stop her struggling. She understood what it stood for.

The foot was then removed, but a hand then grasped the material of her ripped shirt and pulled it back, yanking her arms backward as it was roughly removed to leave her bare breasts resting on the cold wood floor.

One of the men then started yelling orders in Russian, while another headed back into the bedroom. She heard the sound of the drawers being opened and closed, as if they were searching for something. Turning her head slightly to the right, she was able to see the first man grab the suitcase that held Kozlov's clothing and toss it onto the bed. Opening it up, he must not have found what he was looking for because he tossed it aside, towards the bathroom door.

Bending down, he looked under the bed, and pulled out another suit case. Tossing it next onto the bed, opening it up, he stared into it and then began a stream of amused curses, and even being spoken in Russian, she had heard them enough to know what he was saying.

The second guy went into the room to see what he had found and upon looking inside the case, he began to laugh and point at her. She had not even known that the case was there, she had no idea what was in it. When the first man reached in and took out a pair of leather wrist cuffs, holding them up for Aleksey to be able to see from the den, she knew that it was the bag of toys that Kozlov liked to use on her. It had been under the bed the entire time, without her knowing.

The first man then tossed the cuffs to Aleksey, who was the one standing behind her with the gun. She heard the sound of him catching them, laughing as he did. The gun was then removed from pressing into her skull, but in its place, he went down onto his knees, one of them landing in the center of her back, crushing her spine, causing her to shriek in pain. He must have put the gun down because he reached down with both hands and grabbed a hold of her right wrist.

"No!" Star yelled the entire time during the fruitless battle with the stronger man.

She tried to struggle, but she could not stop him from pulling it and bending it hard behind her back. The cuff was secured around her wrist in no time.

Trying to prevent the same thing from happening to her remaining free arm, she brought her bent left arm close to her, trying to hide it underneath her body. But, between his body's weight and the knee to her back, it prevented her from achieving the maneuver. He released her right arm, but moved so he could pin it against her body with his right leg before he made a grab for her left, pulling it back in the same way, tightening the cuff on it just as painfully as the first.

Aleksey then yelled a question to the first one, still in the bedroom, making him rummage around in the bag. In response to his request, she watched as the first man pulled a long length of rope from the bag, bringing it out of the bedroom and coming to a stop in front of her.

Aleksey then grabbed her upper arms from behind, pulling her upper body backwards, up off of the floor while still pinning her with his knee at her lower spine. The arched position was painful and she screamed out from it, to which the man in front of her slapped her face with his open palm to quiet her. The two men talked for a moment.

As she stared at him, the first man stretched the rope between his hands, displaying the long length with a menacing grin.

"Pets should be on a leash," Aleksey said from behind her as the other began to wrap the length of rope around her neck a couple of times. He was not tightening it to the point of choking, but it was pressing firmly, making her breathing a bit difficult, but then again, it may just be the stretched posture of her body.

"No, sir. Please...don't," Star began to beg, her voice falling on deaf ears as they chatted amongst themselves.

After Aleksey was satisfied with the multiple loops the first man had done, she felt him knotting it into place, which _did_ help to tighten it. When he was done, instead of just releasing her to fall forward, he pushed her powerfully onto the floor, causing Star's forehead to thump against it. She felt a dizzy spell come over her from the impact.

Aleksey then grabbed her cuffed left wrist, starting to lift it over her head and then bend it downwards to the back of her neck. Star tried to struggle, to pull out of his grasp, but he was too strong. She realized that he was taking the end of the rope and looping it through the ring on the cuff, before he then pulled her wrist tight against the back of her neck.

Tying it off, he then reach down to her right arm and pulled it into the same position, making her wrists bound together at the back of her neck while her elbows were forced over the back of her head.

As Aleksey finished tying her arms off with her struggles and screams not mattering to him at all, she felt the tears starting to form.

Aleksey then removed his knee from her spine, which helped her to be able to catch her breath a bit easier, even with the rope around her neck. He then grabbed a tight hold of her ponytail and wound it around his fist, using it to harshly pull her up so that she was now kneeling, a maneuver that Kozlov had done countless times. With her arms painfully tied the way they were, they pressed against the back of her head, pushing it slightly downward, so she could only look straight ahead at the feet of the man in front of her.

Aleksey then released her hair and walked around so that he was also standing before her.

"Now, I think you will answer our questions," the pressing of his gun to her forehead not only forcing it back slightly so she was able to see him but starting her tears to fall. "Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir," she managed to answer, letting the automatic response fall from her lips, as the tears continued to run down her cheeks.

She knew that this was not going to end well. She only wondered how painful it was going to be.

"Good pet. Now, we know that Kozlov was here. Where. Is. He. Now?" Aleksey asked, tapping her forehead hard with the barrel of the gun in time with each word of his question.

"Master is in the other house, the guard house," she responded.

The men then began to discuss something amongst themselves for a moment before she felt a slap across her face.

"There is _nobody_ in the guard house," Aleksey informed her, with the information that he knew.

"Master is there. Along with his guards. They are all dead," she spoke honestly.

That answer really brought their conversation to a loud discussion. She heard the footsteps of the second man, who had been behind her out of sight, walk to the door and head out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

"If you are lying, you will regret it," he said, bending at his knees so that she was able to see his face. He then rubbed the gun's barrel across her left cheek, before positioning the muzzle directly under her chin. Pressing upward, he forced her head painfully upwards, as it also caused her arms to move back while tightening the rope around her neck. "But only after we have some fun, yes, pet?"

When Star did not reply, she managed to brace herself as she received another slap to the face. "Answer me, pet! We will have fun, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

Aleksey's grin widened at finally being acknowledged.

Star then heard the sound of the guard house door being kicked open, even with the front door closed. After a moment, the yelling and cursing from outside started. Aleksey dropped the gun from her chin and told the other man something.

The other then went to the door and opened it, and headed outside, leaving the front door wide open. She could feel the cold rush of air start coming into the house, sending a chill across her, as the heat from the fire quickly disappeared.

Lowering her head to make it easier to breathe, she noticed that her nipples were getting hard from their exposure to the cold air. Aleksey must have also noticed because he then ran the tip of the gun down her throat, allowing it to slide over to her right nipple, using the muzzle of the barrel to encompass the firm nub with a sinister laugh.

"Already looking forward to our time together, I see. And it is such a perfect fit," he said, pulling the gun back off of her nipple before looking at the door, where one of the other men was now coming back up the stairs. He spoke fast, to the point where she could not catch a single word he had said. Aleksey stood up and put his gun into the belt of his pants as he headed to the door as they talked.

Star tried to see if she could free her hands or wrists, but he had made the knots too tight, she could not loosen them at all. She was now right back to where she had been a week ago. A helpless prisoner. Before Scary had found her.

Scary!

Where was he?

Was he out in the woods watching what was happening? Had he known that these men were coming? Is that why he had not stopped them from coming into the house? Had he left her here for them to dispose of her so he would not have to?

Before she could think of anything else, Aleksey came back to stand before her.

"So, you were telling the truth," he said then bending down into her line of sight, "Now, you will tell me who has done that to Kozlov? And, where are they now?"

"I do not know where he is. He left his morning," she answered simply stating the truth, not bothering to express her opinions of Scary for leaving her to these horrible men.

"He? A single man? No, there are more. Where are they? How many of them are there?"

"There is only one, I swear," Star replied.

Aleksey did not like her answer as he then wrapped his hand around her throat, lifting her partially off the floor as he stood up. As he started to tighten his choking grip, with his free hand, he slapped her hard across the side of her face. Star screamed out in pain, using the last of her breath to do so.

"No one man could kill that many! You are lying, pet!" Aleksey said holding his grip for a bit longer until she felt like she was going to pass out. Her knees were off the floor, her body's weight held in his hand. Star began to shake her head, to tell him that she was not lying. He then gave her another slap across the face before releasing her. She barely managed to stay upright as she landed painfully on her knees from the fall.

"Ghost," she whispered out as she tried to get air back into her lungs, around the slightly tightened rope. She moved her arms, hoping that it would somehow loosen the item some.

"What did you say?" Aleksey asked, with the shock in his voice that she had expected from hearing that simple word. She felt the rope finally slack just enough.

"It is...the Ghost," she repeated, her breathing becoming quicker, trying to make up for the recent loss of air.

Falling back to sit on her feet, the metal cuff was cold and hard on her butt cheek, but it was the most that she was able to move away from him. Her body slumped over, already aching from the straining position of her arms bent over her head.

Aleksey then repeated what she had said to the other man standing in the outside doorway. The other man then laughed as if he did not believe what he was being told. Aleksey then yelled something at the man, who disappeared down the steps again, giving a couple of curse words in response.

"The Ghost was nothing more than Kozlov's story to keep men in line. He does not exist," Aleksey said walking back and forth between her and the open door, now pointing his gun down at her to keep her from moving.

That was when she heard the sound of the name Niko being called out over and over by the man who had just left, but she heard no response. Aleksey then moved to the front door, calling out to the man Vadim by his name, asking him a question, still keeping his gun on her.

Vadim responded from somewhere on the outside of the house, his voice sounding like it was coming from near the back.

As the man outside was talking, his voice suddenly stopped.

Aleksey then called out to Vadim, over and over he yelled his name, but there was nothing but silence. Why did he not respond?

Walking back over to where she was, Aleksey reached down and once again grabbed a hold of her hair, this time using it to pull her to her upright. Star yelled out loudly in pain as her body was forced harshly upwards, the sound echoing within, and probably beyond, the house. Her feet scrambled and flailed until she finally managed to get them to support her.

Dragging her chained body with him at his side, he headed toward the back door, where the last sound of Vadim's voice had come from. Looking out of the small window on the door, he didn't seem pleased with whatever was, or was not, out there since he gave off a small stream of curses.

Aleksey then turned to face the open front door, pulling Star in front of him so that she had an unobstructed view through the entire house to it.

Winding his hand around her ponytail painfully, causing her to shriek again, he placed his and her left sides against the fridge. He then reached around her right side, placing the gun up underneath her chin, pushing her head upwards relentlessly, while also using her hair to pull it backwards. From his actions, Star then had a good view of the empty open front door. The rope had once again tightened as he held her in place, but forcing her wrists close to her neck helped ease it just enough.

As the realization of the situation came to her, Star began to snicker at the absurdity of what he was attempting to do, the tears of fright now mixing with tears of laughter.

"Why are you laughing?" Aleksey growled angrily at Star while yanking brutally hard on her hair.

"Because I know something that you do not," she answered with a determined tone to her voice.

"And what is that, whore?" he sneered from behind her.

"It's pointless to use me as a shield. To complete his mission, the Ghost must kill me. I am useless!" Star answered, knowing that her time was up the moment Scary walked through that door. At least the three of them were going to be dead also. "We are both dead!"

That was when she spotted the shadow that crossed over the top of the landing from the left side, growing larger as he got nearer to the door. She felt the grip tighten on her hair as Aleksey saw the same growing darkness. Time seemed to pause for her as she recognized the shape of Scary's outline, there was _no way_ it was either of the other two men.

In the span of a single blink, he was there, standing in the door frame. One of his more powerful guns was in his right hand, the one that his lesson had said could shoot straight through a person…and it was pointed right at her chest.

Scary's head was slightly dropped forward, allowing his hair to obscure his face in shadow, as he said it always should. His exposed metal left arm was held slightly before him, making a fist as it caught bits of sunlight as the panels adjusted. Star could hear the whirling sound of his arm from here, and she wondered if it sounded as frightening to Aleksey as she supposed that it did.

With the morning sun being to his side, it wasn't until Scary took a step inside that they both got a good look at him, the full effect from his wearing the face mask and his messy hair hiding the rest. But the cold, blue-eyed stare that was coming off of Scary was nothing like she had been seeing from him over the past week. Not even when they had gone out for target practice, even then they had been warm.

This was the cold, calculating Winter Soldier that she now saw.

"Stop right there, or I kill her!" Aleksey yelled, pressing firmly upward with the gun under her chin to make his point.

She could feel his breath as he spoke, on the back of her left shoulder, telling her that his head was mostly hidden by her own head and arms, as they made more area for him to hide. He was probably using the space between her arm and head to peek through, like a coward.

But then, she thought, he had a reason to be scared. They were both about to die.

"I just told you, I'm his mission, and that makes both of us dead," Star stated, looking peacefully towards Scary, who calmly took a second step forward, approaching them slowly with his gun still raised and aimed at her exposed chest.

But, when Aleksey pulled the hammer back on his gun, the cocking sound of it echoing in the quite room, Star was stunned as Scary stopped his forward movement.

"If what this whore says is true, then let me take her. _She_ is responsible for my brother's death! I will see that she is punished, and then she will be disposed of. Now, toss me the key to her lock so that my new pet can come with me," Aleksey said, eliciting a cry of pain from Star as he harshly yanked on her hair again.

As he had spoken, Star watched as Scary's forehead creased and his eyes narrowed, as if he had become angry at his words. Was he mad because Aleksey was going to steal his kill?

"Scary," Star firmly said to get his attention, his eyes leaving the space next to her neck, where they had been looking, and now focusing on her own red, tear soaked ones. She needed him to know she was serious. "Please, I _beg_ you...don't let me go with him. Finish your mission."

Without being able to see his entire face, Star could not decipher the look that he now gave her.

Holding still for only a few seconds, as he considered Aleksey's offer, she then watched in horror as Scary then took the gun in his hand and pointed it upwards, in a sign of surrender. His right arm stretched outward, and he placed the weapon onto the top of the record player, next to where he had stopped moving. He then rested both of his arms casually at his sides.

She knew that her own eyes were wide with the cold comprehension of shock that she felt.

Scary was going to let Aleksey take her!

She felt the warm tears start back up as they then rolled down her cheeks. Star closed her eyes at the horrible thought, that Scary would let her be taken instead of just killing her. She guessed for him, that it was just as easy to complete his mission by letting that happen, instead of having to deal with disposing of her body.

"Now, I need those keys," Aleksey said with a slight chuckle, still hiding behind her, "But maybe it would be easier to take them from your dead body, Ghost!"

As he spoke those words, Star opened her eyes to look at Scary as she then felt the muzzle of the gun leave from under her chin. She watched as Aleksey's right arm stretched outwards from around her, resting his arm against the side of her ribs to help steady his aim.

Scary just stood there glaring at them as he didn't even try to cover himself in any way. Damn the _idiot_ , he was just going to _let_ himself get _shot_? Even being mad at him, she could not let that happen.

As Star felt Aleksey's breathing stop as he prepared to fire, just like Scary had taught her, Star put all of her weight into leaning herself to the right, allowing her right leg to bend at the knee while pushing up on her left foot. The motion pushed Aleksey's arm down and out, as it caught in the bend of her armpit as he fired, the bullet making contact with the floor from the sound of it. Since his left hand was still wrapped tightly around her ponytail all the way to her head, when she began to tumble over, the weight of her body pulled him down with her.

The two of them landed hard on the kitchen floor, Aleksey's body on top of hers, as she face planted, her right temple, already sore from the last impact, catching most of the blow. The weight of his body, combined with the position of her arms, made Star scream out in pain as she made contact with the hard surface. There was the sound of metal scraping across the floor, the gun having been lost from his grip.

She heard Aleksey screaming in Russian, more than a couple of words she recognized as more curses, and all of them headed her way.

Then suddenly, the weight of his body disappeared from on top of hers, but as it did so, she felt the pull continue on her hair as it painfully lifted her head up from the floor. And with a strange cracking sound, followed by a scream from Aleksey, louder than any she had given, the pull on her hair disappeared.

Rolling over onto her back, she looked up and watched, dazed, as Scary held Aleksey in his metal arm, by his throat, suspended high off of the floor, dangling, as he clawed helplessly with one hand at the silver arm.

Scary's right hand was releasing its grip on Aleksey left one, the one that had been wrapped around her hair, leaving his forearm dangling at a strange, unnatural angle as she realized that Scary had broken the bones in half.

Watching as the seconds went by, Aleksey's face was turning shade after shade of darker reds as he made loud choking sounds.

Pulling the man close to him, so their faces were only inches apart, she heard Scary finally speak for the first time since yesterday.

"She's mine."


	32. Scary's Quick Interrogation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words inside of the { } symbols are spoken in Russian.

**Song: _Paint It Black_ by Rolling Stones**

* * *

"She's mine."

With those simple two words, Scary then decided to finish crushing his windpipe, or maybe it was his entire neck bone, as Star was not sure which parts made up the crunching sound that emanated from inside of Aleksey's body. Star watched mesmerized as Aleksey's face instantly calmed, the gasping noises ceased, and his arms dropped limply at his sides.

With what looked like an effortless toss, she watched as Scary slung his left arm back towards the front of the house, Aleksey's body taking flight and disappearing out of sight past the counter. Two seconds later, she heard the sound of it impacting far away.

On her back, feeling the cold wood floor, Star could only lie there staring at the assassin as he did the same to her, their eyes meeting. She suddenly became very aware of her naked chest, heaving hard while trying to catch her breath due to the rope which had tightened painfully around her throat due to the fall.

Scary's eyes narrowed as he then suddenly dropped to his knees next to her right side. Reaching behind him with his left hand, she watched as he produced a very large black blade, holding it in front of her as he then leaned down towards her. Star closed her eyes hoping that he would make her death quick.

But then, she felt his warm fingers working their way under the rope against her neck, pulling a single loop far enough away from her skin so that he could then cut through it. Opening her eyes, she watched as his own eyes never left the work that he was carefully undertaking, cutting away a loop, and then moving to the next. With each one releasing her neck, she was able to take smoother breaths.

The moment that he cut away the final loop, it also freed and parted her wrists so that they were not held bent downward, and allowing them to straighten up some on the floor above her head. As the blood was allowed to rush back into her arms unobstructed, she felt the pins and needles starting, causing her to wince slightly from the tingling sensation. The knife quickly disappeared from Scary's hand back to wherever it had been before.

Scary then reached up and took her chin into his right hand, turning her head to the left and then to the right, all the while examining the marks that she knew now existed from the slaps and multiple impacts with the floor. His hand moved down so that it rested on her star tattoo, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Casting her eyes down, she was able to see that there was a bruise forming right next to it from where Aleksey had pressed his gun against her skin, so brutally, when he had spotted the object.

His eyes then traveled down her body, looking for any other bruises or marks she guessed, stopping when he finally got to her ankle. Scary let out a single curse in Russian before reaching down and taking hold of her ankle. He gently lifted it up with his right hand, and then grabbed the edge of the cuff's lock with his left. Pinching it with his fingers, Star watched as the metal snapped away into smaller pieces, permanently freeing her from the chain.

Star carefully moved her arms from being above her head so that they were next to her sides, being careful to not make any sound of pain. With the scowl that she could partially see on Scary's face, she reasoned it would be for the best. She could not accurately gauge his attitude right now, since he had gone from mercilessly crushing a man's neck, to being livid at seeing her bruises.

Scary then stood up, lifting the end of the chain in his left hand. As he then moved out of sight around the cabinet, Star then sat up and leaned forward to look around the object so that she could see what he was intending to do. He was following the trail of the chain over to where it was attached to the floor. A couple of heavy footed steps took him over to the location.

With a few sweeping motions of his right arm, he gathered the length of chain in it. Then he reached over and grabbed the chain about a foot from the ground, and gave it a yank with his silver arm. The abrasive scraping sound of metal against wood filled the small room. The entire plate and four bolts then popped out of the floor like they had only been sitting there, not secured the way they had been, screwed into the wood.

Now that she was looking around the cabinet, glancing past Scary, she was able to see Aleksey's body over at the front door. The toss which Scary had done had projected the body all the way through the house, so that it was resting against the front wall. She would never have guessed that Scary would have been able to do such a toss. With his broken left arm actually lying on the landing outside, his empty dead eyes were looking back at her, and she felt like they were accusing her for his demise. A dark mass then passed between her and Aleksey.

Sitting upright onto the floor more, Star silently watched as Scary then disappeared into the bedroom and began his cursing again, this time much louder and a lot more. Suddenly, the same scraping sound emanated from the bedroom, telling her that he had just yanked the chain free from the floor in there also. Scary's fiery form then stomped out of the bedroom and headed to the front door.

Stepping over Aleksey body, she watched as he stood on one of the lower steps, gathered all of the lengths of chain into a loose ball, and then with a primal scream that caused chills to run through her, he tossed the twisted mass with his left arm toward the woods. She actually heard the sound of the metal hitting up against one of the distant trees.

Watching him with terrified eyes, Scary then turned and reached over to take a hold of the broken arm that was protruding from the house onto the landing, pulling Aleksey's body out of the open door. Dragging it down the steps as he walked away, the corpse followed peacefully behind him, except for the hollow thumping sound of his head making contact as it limply impacted on each step. Each thud caused her body to jerk slightly.

Then a peaceful quiet grew around her.

As she sat there shirtless, now staring at the cuffs on her wrists, once again _alone_ in the cold house, Star had no idea what to do.

This was a side of Scary that she had never seen before. It may be how he had accomplished his mission that first night, when he had killed Kozlov, but she had been blindfolded in the cage at that time, and had not seen a single thing. But even then, he had only just shot him in the head, not acting out the way he just had.

By the time he had let her out, he had only _looked_ scary, but he had never acted menacing before. Thinking back to the times when she had disobeyed him, especially when she had run that morning into the fog, and now knowing what he _could have_ done with her, if she had truly made him mad, it terrified her.

It then dawned on Star as to why he had been worried that he may have hurt her when he had woken up from their nap. He could have _easily_ killed her in his sleep, without meaning to. She had known what he was capable of, since she clearly remembered watching him with the trees in the woods, but _never_ had he injured _her_ in any way, on purpose or on accident.

But what was his intention now? Would his anger still be raging in him, making him feel the need to vent it out on the only other person left alive? Her.

Star was not sure how much time passed before she heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. Gazing up from her wrists to the doorway, she watched as Scary re-entered the house, closing the front door behind him. He continued to walk directly towards where she was sitting, his face still obscured by the mask, his eyes still cold and hard, and _absolutely focused on her_.

* * *

Closing the door behind him, he saw that Star was still sitting on the cold kitchen floor, close to where he had left her, but she seemed to have crawled forward just enough to look around the cabinet. She would have been able to watch him from there, but she seemed to have done nothing else. He needed to take care of her, guessing that she was in at least a mild case of shock.

Walking towards where she was, he saw Star's eyes widen slightly as he progressed. Then, she began moving backwards, away from him, her bare back stopping her retreat as it contacted against the far cabinet. He never stopped advancing forward, determined to get to her. Nothing was going to stop him, not even the anxious look that she was giving him.

Bending down next to Star, he placed his right arm under her knees and wrapped his left around her back, lifting her up off of the cold floor. As they became upright, Star put her arms around his neck to steady herself, helping a calming feeling come over him a bit more.

If she were truly afraid of him, she would not have done such a maneuver.

Taking her through the house, he entered the bedroom, walked around the bed, and sat her down on its edge. When Star had released her hold on him, he walked in to the bathroom and started the tub's hot water flowing. While picking her up, he had seen that her body was covered with goosebumps, as the house no longer had any heat inside of it. There were also streaks of dirt covering her bare chest, and he could only guess that it came from the floor since he had seen the marks that would match her fingers digging into it.

For him, the worst had been as he had picked her up, he could smell the foul scent of a cologne, matching the man he had just killed. The man who had touched Star. He wanted it entirely gone.

Heading back to where Star was sitting, he saw that she had not yet removed those damned cuffs. Sitting on to the bed next to her, he reached out and took her right wrist and began to release the clasp. Tossing it behind him, he heard the satisfying thump of it hitting the wall to the den. He then held out his hand for her left one, and Star passed it over to him, allowing him access to remove it also, with another second thump.

"Go," he said pointing at the tub, not knowing what else to say.

He had messed up, and he needed to fix it.

Star stood, walking into the bathroom before dropping the pants she was wearing to the ground. Watching her, he couldn't help but be amused when she stepped onto her left foot with her right one, using it to pull her sock off without bending down. She then repeated the trick, pulling the other one off. As he watched her slip into the tub, for the second time in two days, he thought about how close he had been to losing her.

Heading over to the bedroom fireplace, he added a couple of logs, stoking it until the fire was going strong. The house was cold, and before Star got out of the tub, he intended to have it warmed back up, better than it had been before the dead men had shown up. Too cold and she would get sick, and that was not good. Heat...from the water, from the fire, from his body. Star had to stay warm, stay healthy.

He had been careless. He never should have left Star alone.

On the bed was the case he had hidden under it that first day. It was open, angering him with the thought of the men possibly intending on using the perverse items inside on Star. Picking the cuffs up from the floor, he tossed them inside before closing it, picked it up and shoved it back under the bed. There was nowhere else to put it. He grabbed the other suitcase, which had been flung onto the floor under there also, to get it out of the way.

Seeing the fire starting to grow, he headed into the den, glancing briefly into the bathroom. The water was still running and Star's head was visible above the edge of the tub, but he saw that she had rest her head on the side, as if she were trying to sleep. Her braid was cascading on the outside, keeping it from getting wet, the bottom of it grazing the floor.

Putting a couple of logs onto the den's fire, he found the bowl of oatmeal sitting on the hearth, partially eaten. This must have been where Star was sitting when they had come in.

This is where Star would have died…if the men had not shown up. How could he ever have considered doing that to her?

Feeling a burning sensation starting in his eyes, he blinked it away.

Taking a deep breath and looking around the immediate area, he also noticed the blanket from the couch on the floor, off to the side…the one she liked to wrap up in. He picked it up, finding it totally cold, none of Star's body heat left on it. Dropping it onto the couch, satisfied that the fires would soon have the rooms warm, he needed to head outside to finish up.

Leaving by the front door, he closed it quietly behind him, not wanting to disturb Star.

Making his way around the yard until he was on the other side of the guard house near the campfire, close to the path that led to the lake, he found the injured man where he had left him. He was still unconscious from when he had punched him, taking him by surprise as he had called back to Aleksey about not being able to find the man he had already killed.

Seeing Star's 'baton' leaning against the couch, he had used it to impale him through his upper left thigh, pinning him to the ground in case he awoke before he returned to question him.

Until he woke up, he could dispose of the other two bodies that he had left deposited near the door to the guard house. Heading around the house to the front, he noticed that when the front door had been kicked in, due to it being locked, that the frame of the door had splintered. There would be no way to secure it anymore, not that it should matter.

Grabbing the body of the first man, who he had surprised next to the generator shed by putting three bullets into his chest with his suppressed pistol, he dragged him inside, depositing him on top of the existing pile of bodies.

Heading back outside, he grabbed the collar of Aleksey, the man who had held Star...who had touched her...who had hurt her. The one foolish enough to think that he was going to leave here with _his_ _Star_. Unlike the other man, he flung this body inside, hard and with purpose, smiling as he heard it thump on the far side of the room, slamming into the kitchen's upper cabinets shattering them before tumbling to the floor with a thud.

Shutting the door behind him, he went back to the only one of them remaining alive...for now. He was going to get answers from him.

Rounding the house, he heard the grunted sounds of pain coming from him, seeing him finally stirring on the cold, partially wet ground. When the man saw movement and looked up at him approaching, his initial reaction was to try and back away, which caused a loud shriek of surprise as he discovered he was unable to move due to the fact that he was staked to the ground in place.

"{What area you and the others doing here?}" he asked standing right before him, straight and tall, and as menacing as he could.

"{We are here to kill Kozlov and his pet,}" the man said holding his hands up before him in a surrendering sign. His body was shaking from the injury to his leg, his body going into shock.

"{Why?}"

"{Because they both killed Dmitri, Aleksey's brother, cousin to me and my brother, Vadim. We want vengeance,}" the man responded. There was a steady stream of blood coming from the wound. "{Please, if you killed Kozlov, then we are on the same side. Let me and the others go.}"

"{There are no others to let go,}" he flatly responded.

With this answer, the grown man began to cry.

"What is he saying?" he heard from behind him, in the soft voice he had come to enjoy, but it sounded as cold and uncaring as he felt.

Turning to look at Star, he saw that she had wrapped herself in one of the larger thick blankets to keep herself warm, the partially wet boots on her feet sticking out from the dragging material. She did not need to be out here in the cold air.

"He says that they were here to kill Kozlov and you. He claims that you killed his cousin, Dmitri," he said as Star came to stand next to him, looking down at the man.

"No, Kozlov ordered his death, he only made me choose the way that he would die," Star said, sighing as she spoke.

"Tell me," he simply said.

"Three lieutenants of Kozlov's were planning to kill him and one of them was to take his place. Kozlov found out about it and they were taken prisoner. They were taken to a warehouse, where Kozlov gathered his other lieutenants, over a dozen men, so that they could watch, and participate in, what would happened to _anyone_ who betrayed him. It was the only time that he had me clothed in a fancy dress, saying that he did not want my nakedness to distract the men from the event.

"So that they could not get free, he had them bound with handcuffs to rings bolted on the floor of the warehouse. Kozlov had already told me that he had decided _how_ they were to be killed. One was to be stabbed repeatedly until he died, another was to be fed to his fighting dogs, and the third was to set on fire to be burned alive. But, he ordered _me_ to choose which man would receive which punishment. At first I refused, not wanting to, but he said that if I did not comply, that he would turn me over to every man there so they could do whatever they wanted with me. After the speech he gave about betrayal being punished, when it was time, I just pointed at a man and chose a death at random. Dmitri was killed by the dogs."

"{Do not speak his name, whore,}" the man yelled at Star, in what he considered misplaced anger after hearing the story from Star. He knew that she was not lying. She had no reason to, and she had never done it before.

The blood was now starting to pool heavily on both sides of his leg, he was slowing bleeding out.

"{Speak to her like that again, and I will forego the questions,}" he said pulling the same gun that killed his brother from its holster, aiming it down at him. "{Do you even know how the events of your cousin's death came about and happened?}"

"{They were ordered to kill Kozlov, but they failed. She ordered them to be killed, to impress her lover,}" he said pointing at Star and then spitting on the ground in her direction in disgust.

"{Then you know nothing,}" he calmly stated. Now, he was actually curious as to why this event had taken place. "{Who ordered them to kill Kozlov?}"

"{HYDRA. Dmitri was to take Kozlov's place, to be loyal to HYDRA for granting him control of the Bratva. Kozlov had angered them, and he was to be removed. Dmitri was going to let us join the Bratva once he was leader. We would all be loyal to HYDRA,}" the man managed to get out, he was starting to look very pale from the blood loss.

"{HYDRA did not send you _here_. Kozlov was my mission. _Who_ sent you?}" he asked, the grip on his gun becoming a bit tighter, his aim moving to focus on the man's forehead.

"{Nobody, we came here to avenge our family. No one sent us,}" he wheezed out with quickened breaths, raising one hand in defense.

"{How did you know of this place, and who else knows what you were doing?}" hoping for the best answers possible.

"{We searched a couple of Kozlov's safe houses around Moscow. When Vadim came here the other night, and saw the house was occupied, we knew Kozlov had to be here. The snow and rain delayed us from coming sooner. We all agreed to avenge Dmitri, only his family, the three of us, by coming here to kill them,}" the man was lying down and looking like he wouldn't be able to move if he tried, even without the baton in place.

That was why he had been on edge the other night by the fire. Someone _had_ been watching them. The oil spot must have been from his car, as he walked up the entire length of the road to be able to survey the house.

But Vadim had not made any noises to get his attention, he had just felt that something was off, just enough to make him become disquieted.

Damn, he should have put Star into the house and done a security sweep. He had indeed messed up, and Star had been hurt because of it.

Calming himself down, he looked at the dying man.

"{So, there is no one coming here to help you…who could take you to a hospital?}" he asked, carefully stating the question to get the answer he needed, without the man giving a lie.

"{No, nobody. Please, help me,}" the man begged. "{We both wanted Kozlov dead. Please…hail HYDRA?}"

The man had no idea how much he did _not_ want to hear that phrase right then. _That_ was the final nail in his coffin.

Pulling the trigger, he saw the small cavity form in his forehead as he then fell still, joining his brother and cousin.

"If you both work for HYDRA, why would you kill him?" Star calmly asked, having been silently listening to their talk, and only picking up on that one key word.

"Because if he had lived, he would have told them about you," he simply told her, holstering his gun, taking in her apathy. He knew some of what she had gone through, but how could Star not even be phased by watching him execute a man?

"I don't understand," she was looking up at him, her eyes no longer showing the fear of him which they had earlier.

He could see her breath as she spoke, reminding him that it was too cold outside for her.

Reaching down, he took a hold of one of her hands holding the blanket and began to lead her back inside of the house.


	33. Star Takes A Chance And Kisses Scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for the smut you've been hoping for...

**Song: _In-A-Gada-Da-Vita_ by Iron Butterfly**

* * *

When he opened the front door, making sure Star went in first, they were greeted by the heat he had hoped the fires would produce. The house was warm enough for Star.

Stopping inside the front door, he reached down and began to remove his boots, recalling yesterday when he had almost tracked the mud in the house. Straightening up the towel that had been crumpled against the wall as Aleksey's body had slid into it, he placed them upon it, and then headed into the bedroom to change.

Star stood over by the record player, silently watching him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Star beginning to remove her own shoes, putting one next to his, before he lost sight of her as he entered the bedroom. Standing between the bed and dresser, he began to undo the straps that held his leather vest on as he heard the sound of a record being put onto the machine. Star then came to stand in the doorway, watching him, seeming to be thinking, a slight frown on her face.

When he was at the last strap, she finally spoke.

"You were going to let Aleksey take me," she stated with a bit too much emotion in her voice.

"No!" he immediately retorted, loudly and very firmly, letting his vest hang loose. "No, he was _not_ leaving here with you!"

"But, you put your gun down, you were surrendering…" she started before he took a large step over towards her, so that he was right in front of her, his sudden movement hushing her statement.

"I put the gun _down_ because I was _not_ going to take the _chance_ of _you_ getting _hurt_! And then _you_ went and _rammed_ into him before I could _stop_ him! What were you _thinking_?" his harsh sounding words wanting an answer as he glared at Star.

At his accusation, she replied to him harshly, " _I_ was _thinking_ that he was going to _shoot_ you! I was trying to _stop_ him!"

"You were trying to protect _me_...from _him_?" he had to ask, his head falling slightly to the side, not truly comprehending her words. The man who was on the way here to kill her. Why would she do that for him?

"Well…you were just _standing_ there…as he pointed the _gun_ at you…not doing _anything_ to _protect_ yourself!" she answered as if it should have been obvious.

"I was _planning_ on _rushing_ at him, before you moved. If he had shot at me, I would have just _deflected_ the bullet with my _arm_! _That_ was my plan!" he retorted with just as much obviousness in his own voice.

"You can _deflect_ bullets with your _arm_? How was _I_ supposed to know _that_?" she snipped at him with her lips turning pouty, wrapping the blanket tighter against her body as she seemed to cross her arms and stared at the wall. A few silent moments passed before she turned her head away from looking at him, and then said, "Besides, why would you care if he had left with me? You were planning on killing me today, right?"

As he heard that, he was glad that he had not removed his mask yet. There would have been no way she would not have been able to read his expression if she looked at him.

When she continued, Star's voice was quieter.

"When the first guy came in the door behind me, I thought it was you. When he put the gun to the back of my head, I thought it was you. I understood then…that was why you were _ignoring me_ since yesterday. That it was time," she told him softly. "I should have known it wasn't you. He wasn't sneaky."

He turned away from her and went to the foot of the bed, sitting down so that he was just far enough away from her so that he could admit what he needed to say.

"It was _supposed_ to have been me. I knew yesterday after the nap…that I needed to. I went to the lake this morning to give you time, so that you would not see me coming, hoping that I would not see your face as I..." He had to pause and take a breath. "I was on the way back, on the path…to finish my mission. But, when I heard the sound of the door being kicked in, and then a man yelling, all I could think about was that you were alone, and helpless. And that _I_ had _left_ _you_ that way. That it was _my_ fault. When I heard you _scream_ …I knew then that I _had_ to get to you…that I _needed_ you to be _ok_ …that I _had_ to see you," he confessed to her, focusing on the floor at his feet.

After a few moments, he watched as Star's bare feet appeared, standing in front of him. The blanket that she had been wrapped up in then pooled at her feet, allowing him to see that her lovely legs were bare. Her hands then came into view, reaching to both sides of his face.

Running her hands towards the back of his mask, she released it and carefully pulled it away, exposing his face. His eyes followed her hands movement, as she took it and reached behind her, to place it on the top of the dresser drawers.

As she did so, it dawned on him that Star was standing naked before him, now that the blanket was gone from around her. She had not dressed after getting out of the tub. Why had she not?

Star then stepped even closer, pressing his legs apart with her own so that she was standing between them. Her hands then took hold of the clasp of his gun holster, clicking the release. She pulled it from around his waist, carefully depositing it on the floor at their feet. Reaching back up, she placed her soft hands over his jaw and cheeks, lifting his head so that he was looking up at her.

Leaning down, Star then placed a gentle kiss over his lips.

Her hands then began to travel to the back of his head, her fingers finally stopping once they had taken hold of his hair, using it to pull him further into the kiss. As he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling spreading through him, he lifted his arms to take a hold around her, pulling Star's body so that it was pressed to his chest.

They held together like that...Star planting kiss after kiss on him, while he eagerly accepted them.

When he felt the tip of her tongue probe between his lips, he open his mouth to meet hers with his own. That was when her spicy taste of cinnamon shook him. His tongue searched for more of her, a moan growing from far in his chest. When they finally drew away from each other, he felt Star's teeth taking hold of his bottom lip, gently pulling on it before releasing him.

Examining her face, he could see that her cheeks were flushed red, and that her pupils were wide, black pools…doing the same thing that his had done days ago.

"Scary," Star heavily breathed his name, panting a few times, her breasts heaving right before him, so that they drew his eyes towards them, and the small center nub. "Do…do you want…"

He never heard what she would have asked, because he used his left arm to press on her back, forcing her forward so that he was able to take the firm nipple into his mouth. As he began to suck on it, Star gave out a whimper of a cry, her hands digging into his hair. After a moment, he pulled away, taking it between his teeth, like she had done with his lip. When he release it, Star gave a low sound, as if she had lost something. She ogled down at him, her mouth open, her tongue licking her lips.

"Hell yes, you do," she breathed out excitedly, before pulling his head back into a crushing kiss. Their lips met and began a harsh competition of trying to outdo one another.

He didn't want to ever stop the feeling of her against him, the warmth of her hands on his face, her body's heat trying to creep through the open vest. He needed to feel more of her, of that he was sure. Releasing her body from his grasp for as short an amount of time as he could, he moved his arms behind him, pulling the open vest off of him, tossing it somewhere else in the room.

Now that it was gone, Star's arms left his head, wrapping their way around his neck. Her mouth left his, causing a sensation of loss for a moment before her lips began to explore his exposed neck, moving across, left to right.

When she began to suck on the lobe of his ear, he could not help but moan from the pleasure forming in his chest like he had never known. His own arms found their way back around her, his left high on her back, but his right found a home in the small of her back, his fingertips slightly caressing down over her exposed soft cheeks.

Just when he was getting used to enjoying this position, he felt Star move her body from between his legs, pulling back so that she was staring down at him, his hands stopping her from leaving him by finding a firm grip on her hips, not letting her escape. She was breathing just as hard as he was, but he got the pleasure of being able to watch her breasts rise and fall again, inches away from his face. All he had to do was lean forward, which he started to do, but he was stopped by her hand planting itself hard on his chest. Casting his eyes up to her face, he needed to know why he couldn't have them.

Star then reached down with both of her hands, grabbing onto the hem of the tank top that he wore underneath his leather vest as a soft layer. Without asking, she lifted it straight up, forcing his arms high so that the useless material could leave.

Now, he was sitting there, his chest as bare has her own.

He watched as Star's eyes glanced down to his left side, where the shiny metal bonded with his marred flesh. Thinking that the sight of him displayed like that would make her stop, that the marvelous feelings were now over, he cast his own head down and away from the silver object, mentally cursing at himself for not stopping her action of removing the shirt hiding it.

What he was not expecting was her warm, silky fingers beginning to trace along the edge of his skin, from the top of his shoulder, across his chest until they trailed under his arm to his side. The faint gentle feel of her fingers over the side of his ribs caused a wonderful shiver to run over his entire body.

Never had any of the people who had worked on his arm and touched him ever caused such a wonderful feeling.

"Move further on the bed and lay on your back," Star heavily spoke, gesturing behind him with her other hand so that he knew exactly where to go.

Obeying her command by pushing with his arms on the mattress, dragging his leather encased legs up onto it, his mind suddenly assessed the situation as his head came to a rest near the pillows. It came to the quick conclusion that for right now, Star was being designated as his Handler. But unlike all of the previous ones, he _wanted_ her to tell him what to do, what needed to be done to alleviate the anxious yearning need that was forming inside of him.

Star would know what had to be done to complete this mission.

Star then placed her arms on each side of his legs, her own legs then following behind them, crawling her way over the top of him. The feel of her weight above him, sliding side to side, growing closer to his aching, trapped member, caused him to drop his head onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. And then she was resting her body right on top of him, so he reached to take a hold of her hips to make sure she stayed there.

Leaning down, Star's breasts began to caress over his own chest, while her mouth found the crevice of his neck next to his left arm. As she sucked on this tender area, her tongue would travel across the scarred flesh, forcing a deep moan from him. When Star began to slide her hips up and down over his own, he couldn't stand it anymore. He pushed upwards with his hips, between her legs, the agony of his hard, trapped member finally at full strength, while using his hands to press her body down onto his even more.

It was a strange sensation of pleasurable pain.

"Star, it hurts and I'm not sure what to do," he admitted not sure if he wanted it to continue to hurt or to stop.

"I do…and it will feel better in a minute, Scary," Star said sitting upright as his hands slid to her thighs, straddling his own thighs while her nimble fingers began to work on the unfastening of his pants. As they were loosened, his stiff member freed itself while Star's fingernails carefully scrapped along his bare hips, and then along his legs, pulling the leathers down as far as she could while still sitting astride of him before she began to withdraw.

Watching her get further and further away, even as his pants were sliding off of his legs, he felt the need to reach out to her, to make sure that she was not going to abandon him. Once she was standing at the end of the bed, him finally naked except for his socks, but he really didn't care about them at this time. He held out his hand towards her to make sure she was coming back. Star then once again straddled her knees over him, crawling up on top of him, taking his hand, and letting him pull her back close, where he needed her to be.

He eased her back into _her spot_ , so that she was once again sitting astride his hips, the warm space between her legs pushing his hard, free member between the two of them as she began to slide over it. With each raking motion, he felt the urge to push upward into her, but he forced himself to stay still on the bed, allowing the pleasure of her body's satisfying touch to invade him.

Star's warm lips glided over his chest and neck, the wonderful ache of _happiness_ in him being brought to the surface with each gentle touch.

 _This_ was what he had been suppressing for the past few days. Every time he had felt even a slight bit of this emotion, he had buried it deep inside of his programming.

Now that he was allowing it to wash over him, he felt like kicking himself for not letting it happen sooner.

"Scary, are you alright?" Star breathlessly asked as she stopped her movements, now watching him intently for an answer.

Reaching up, he gently took hold behind her neck with his left hand, using it to pull her back down into his waiting kiss, her braid of hair resting against his side with a soft tickle. After a few extra ones, he let her sit back just a bit.

"I'm fine, darlin'. Don't stop," he managed to get out, his breathing much heavier than it had been in some time.

"I won't," Star assured him, dropping back down and crushing their lips together again.

As her hips began their rubbing motion again, he reached up and found a hold on both of her breasts, which had been dragging over his chest. Rubbing his fingers over her nipples, they grew harder, pointing outward. Fascinated by them, he took her left nipple between his fingers and gave it a firm pinch, to which Star mewed aroused into his mouth, as their tongues continued to explore each other. Hearing the lovely sound that it had produced, he freed his mouth from hers.

Taking a hold of her right breast carefully in his left hand, he guided it to his mouth, eager to repeat what he had done earlier. As Star continued to rub their hips together, he sucked on one nipple while he pinched firmly on the other. The howl of her pleasure that it produced from Star easily brought a wide smile to his face. Star looked down at him, able to see his expression.

"You like doing that?" she asked with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah, doll, I _like_ that," he honestly answered, his voice forming an accent that did not match any of the different languages that he spoke, but he didn't care. Star's eyes narrowed at him, but then they formed laugh lines around the corners.

"Then you are going to love this," she told him, taking her right hand, which she had been using to help support herself, off of the mattress and sliding it between their two bodies. When he felt her fingers wrap themselves around his throbbing member, giving a few firm pulls, he closed his eyes and grunted out loud. How was this new feeling possible? How could her touches be affecting him in this way?

Star then gave her response to his actions by saying, " _That's_ not what I meant, Scary."

With that, he felt her rising high onto her knees before she lifted his member, so that it was aimed directly between her legs. Holding onto him firmly, Star then lowered herself down onto his impatient shaft. Once she was impaled all of the way on, he once again grunted with the heat of new unexpected pleasure that now engulfed him.

Leaning back down towards his chest, Star then began to rock her hips again, grinding herself on him in a steady rhythm. With each motion, he felt himself needing _more_. Reaching out, he took her hips in his hands, helping to guide her body forwards and back, trying to get even _more_ from her. Their kisses became even _more_ furious with wanting possession of the other. As they rocked the entire bed, both of them giving keening groans of enjoyment, he found himself wanting even _more_.

After only a few short minutes, he could not stand it any longer. More was not enough. He needed to _posses_ Star.

A strong determination of knowing what to do then swept over him. Using his right arm to push himself upright, he then reached around with his left arm to where Star was sitting upright straddling him, wrapping it around her back. Pulling her hard into his chest, he held her tight as he then rolled them, as a singular formation, over, so that Star was now the one lying on her back, underneath him. He saw the look on her face start to change, worried that it would be to fright at his sudden maneuver, but instead, it made him glad to see that it was almost registering as amused shock.

"That's better, doll," he smiled over her, before leaning down and crushing into her with his weight, as he explored her mouth more. Then, he let the feeling that had been building in him take over his entire body.

Placing his left arm next to her head, his forearm supported him while his hand slipped over her braided hair. He began to pump, harder and harder into her, her hips joining with his, while his right hand found the waiting hard nipple. As they kissed, he felt her breathing begin to match his thrusting, barely able to catch her breath sometimes. When she began to scream with pleasure at each full impalement, he felt himself swelling with pride that he was causing her to make these noises.

He felt his own body building to a release that was not far away, but he tried to quell it down, not wanting this moment to end. As Star's cries became louder with each thrust, he knew that she was feeling the same thing. Her arms reached outward, grabbing a tight hold on the bed sheet, her fist grinding the material, while her legs locked around his waist. Now she was making sure that he was the one not leaving.

Her teeth then bit down on her lower lip, as if trying to hide the sounds he was enjoying hearing. That would not do, so he kisses her again, making her release her lip so he could hear. He wanted to hear her scream for him...and only him.

With an almost knowing idea, he reached down between their bodies, running his right hand between them, he found the slick folds of her skin. A couple of swirls with his fingers was all that it took. Star then screamed out, very loudly, her body arching steeply off of the bed. _That_ had been what he wanted to hear. As he felt her body spasming tight around him, that was all that it took for him to arrive at his own release. Holding himself upright over her, he waited until his muscles had calmed back down before allowing himself to fall limp on the bed next to her.

For the next couple of minutes, both of them laid exhausted on the bed together, Star having rolled over onto her right side and draping her left arm over his chest, resting her head on his metal shoulder, relaxing her leg over his. He could tell that she was still awake, but she was comfortable just lying there, on him, with him.

Reaching over with his right hand, he rested it on top of her own arm, wanting to just touch her. He could not believe what he had just experienced.

Once he had found himself on top, it just had seemed…so _familiar_ to him. Had he done that before? He had to have…it just felt so right.

"Are you still alright, Scary?" Star sleepily asked, rubbing her fingers over his chest in little circles.

"Better than I have been in days," he amusing answered, turning his head so that he could kiss hers, before resting his by touching the top of her head. "Why would you kiss me like that? How did you know what would happen?"

"Don't you realize all the little things you've done? From the touches and kisses you given me, not to mention licking my fingers. I was waiting for you to…to do what you wanted…like Kozlov used to. But you never did."

"Like Kozlov? Why would you want for me to be with you like that, if it was like Kozlov?" he asked, rubbing his hand over her arm, noticing that they were both coated with a sheen of perspiration over their bodies. But it only brought a smile to his face.

"Trust me when I say that _nothing_ we just did was like Kozlov," Star said, snuggling a bit closer against his body. "That was the first time, in my entire life, that I had sex because _I_ wanted to."

Listening to that admission, plus the fact that she had shared such an experience with him, letting him finally understand what he had been suppressing, he knew now that he was _not_ going to allow _any_ harm to come to her. He had time before his extraction, and he would make sure that Star _somehow_ survived once he was gone.

As they lay there silently resting for a few more minutes, he heard the sound of her stomach begin to rumble. He had not eaten anything this morning, and her own breakfast had been interrupted.

"Let's go find something to eat," he told her, tiling his head over so that he could give the top of her head a final kiss before standing and looking down at her, which brought a nice ache to his chest.

Star, on the other hand, looked a bit sad at having to leave the comfortable position they had both been in, but she needed food.

Besides, maybe she would allow him to lay next to her again later. Would she maybe let him sleep next to her again tonight?

Maybe they could do _that_ again.

Pulling some clothes from his drawer, he opted for the single pair of shorts that fitted him with a pullover shirt. Between the heat of the raging fires, as well as what they had created, it would be plenty. Star then scooted down the bed and dress in a little lighter clothing than she normally wore also. He liked seeing her exposed legs, with the shorts she had put on.

He left her trying to get the hairbrush through her tangled mess of hair, which she had removed the braid from since it had partially come loose during their escapade.

Heading right for the pantry, he opened the tin of Turkish Delight, popping a couple of pieces in his mouth. He definitely deserved it, this time.


	34. Needing Something To Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want another chapter with some smut? Good, because this is it.

**Song: _Do It Again_ by Steely Dan**

* * *

When Star went through the pantry to pull out something to make a second breakfast with, she noticed that the tin of Turkish Delights was _not_ where it had been earlier. It brought a smile to her face as she pictured Scary standing there, eating a couple of piece before she left the room. He had definitely earned it this morning, no matter what his original intention had been. Pulling out the box of cream of wheat, she looked over at the oatmeal container and started to think that she may _never_ eat the stuff again.

Scary had taken the pot of hardened oatmeal and was trying to scrape it into the trashcan. Even with his muscles, it seemed like a tough job. Pulling out the eggs and bacon, Star figured that she would just make the same meal as their first morning. As she began to get everything organized, Scary gave up and put the pot into the sink, cursing under his breath in Russian at the item. He then went into the den area and began to straighten up the furniture that had been moved as she struggled during what had happened. She had not noticed that when she had been pulled over the couch, that it had been pulled slightly back with her.

Coming back into the kitchen to stand behind her, peeking over her shoulder at the meal being cooked, Scary asked, "Do I have a couple of minutes before it's ready?"

"Yes, but less than 10, why?" she asked, focusing on scrambling the eggs in the bowl without splashing.

"There is something I need to do and check on," Scary told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and using his fingers to move her loose hair out of the way before giving the side of her neck a quick kiss. It sent a nice shiver over her entire body. She had left her hair loose just for him. He then walked to the front door and put on his shoes.

"I'll be quick," he said leaving through the door.

She had no idea what he was doing going out dressed like that, in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, so she just concentrated on getting the food ready. She was almost done when she heard the sound of a car's engine coming down the drive. At first hearing it, she had a quick panic pass over her, but then she realized that it was Scary, bring the men's car closer from wherever they had left it. That was why she had not heard them approaching, except for their footsteps once they were near the house.

Scary came back inside and removed his shoes, placing them on the towel. The scene of him doing such a mundane move brought a smile to her face, as she tried to get the last of the items off of the stove. He had just killed three men without a real care, but he remembered her not wanting dirt on the floor. Fixing the bowls, she actually heard him approaching from behind. She knew that he was only doing it for her benefit.

"Here," she said lifting the two bowls with spoons for him to take, "So, table or couch?"

"Couch," he answered without any hesitation, taking them from her and walking over to it, while she went into the fridge to get something to drink. That was when she realized that she had not thought to put on some coffee for Scary, since it was his favorite beverage so far. So instead, she poured him a glass of milk and herself some orange juice. Walking over with them to the couch, she sat down right next to him. Pulling her legs up next to her, she placed their glasses on the hearth, and then accepted the bowl he offered her.

For the next few minutes they ate in silence, just enjoying sitting there while she leaned a bit against his shoulder, taking more comfort in his touch than the heat, like she normally would, since the house was a nice temperature. When she was done, she moved the empty bowl and glass off to the side, waiting for him to finish his own, while she thought back to what they had just done. She was still feeling a bit euphoric after their incredible session in the bedroom.

Star had been enjoying herself while she had been riding on top of him, but when he had suddenly flipped her over, and then began to move the way he had, Star knew that he _had_ to have had sex before. Scary was so full of contradictions that were just baffling to her. He seemed to have had no idea that he had been sexually teasing her for the past few days, but then he had begun move in all the right ways, touching her in just the right spot to make her orgasm. She could feel her face becoming flush from just remembering his fingers on her.

Standing up, she grabbed her dishes and walked into the kitchen, making sure to not look at him for fear of him seeing her red face. She did not want to have to explain _that_ to him either. How, with all that she had been through, would just _thinking_ about his fingers make her feel so warm? Star began to fill the oatmeal pot with water to let it soak, so that later, it could be scrubbed a lot easier. Washing her own items, she suddenly had Scary's arm, complete with bowl and glass, appeared from her peripheral vision, him having snuck up on her again, making her slightly jump.

"That is not _nice_ ," she said moving her hand under the faucet and cupping her palm before splashing a bit of water in his general direction, small droplets catching him on his face and shirt. He then put the items into the sink.

"No, _that_ was not nice," Scary said, reaching around her waist and pulling her away from the sink. Backing her up until she was now resting against the other cabinet, he reached back over and turned the water off. Scary then turned so that his body was before her, his arms coming to rest on each side of her, using the cabinet to trap her inside of them.

"Well, maybe you should stop sneaking up on me, Scary," she chastised him, crossing her arms, trying to seem mad.

"Where is the fun in that, Star?" he said leaning a bit closer into her, his chest now just touching her arms.

"Is that what scaring me is…fun? Can't you find something else to do that would be fun?" she said wondering, no…hoping, that he caught on to what she was getting at.

The leering smile that came over his face told her that he _perfectly_ understood.

"I'm sure I can think of _something_ that would be fun," he said, moving his hands so that they now rested on her hips. Without any effort, Star suddenly found herself lifted up off of the floor, her butt cheeks coming to rest on the cold countertop, the shorts not covering anything it seemed as they rode high up her legs. Scary then moved all of the way forward, pressing himself against her legs, forcing them apart so that she had to spread them, willingly letting him stand between them.

Resting his hands onto the countertop at her sides, he leaned in, taking her lips with his, the kiss firm but not demanding, as if he was making sure he was allowed to. She put her arms behind her to keep herself upright, but wanting to lean forward into him. Scary pulled back only a bit, then he leaned in to whisper into her ear, "Care to have some _fun_ with me?"

"What do you have in mind, Scary?" she quietly said into his ear in response. She could already feel her body starting to tingle from him just being so close.

"Do you want to wash the dishes?" Scary asked rubbing his body forward so that he barely brushed between her legs.

With a sharp, deep intake of breath as she felt his already hard member press her nicely sore lower lips, she answered, "No,"

"We could straighten up the mess of clothes in the bedroom?" he asked pressing forward once again, teasing her by now taking her ear lobe between his lips, sucking on it, waiting for an answer.

When he finally released her ear and she could think once again, she responded, "Definitely not."

"Then I can't think of _anything_ else for us to do," Scary was now leaning back away from her.

As he went to step to the side, as if he was going to walk away from her, Star reached out with her legs, wrapping them around his hips, pulling Scary back into the cabinet right between her legs.

"What about if _I_ could think of _something_?" she asked pulling him in tightly, feeling him hard against her warming crotch again. Her legs rested on his hips while she locked her feet together, resting them just above his butt cheeks, making sure that he could _not_ walk away again.

"Are you _sure_ you can think of something?" Scary asked leaning in and placing his arms around her waist, pulling her even tighter into him.

"Oh, yes, I _can_ ," Star informed him before finally giving up their game and sitting slightly up, so that she could easily meet his lips with hers. Her heart was pounding so fast, that she could feel each beat pulsing everywhere over her entire body, even between her legs. As they continued to kiss, just as eager as before, she was able to wrap her arms over his shoulders, so that she could hold him to her. Scary began to push forward against her, grinding himself wantonly, making sure that she felt each lunge. The moans that matched his movements let him know that she definitely was.

Scary then leaned as far forward as he could, pushing her down onto the countertop, using his right arm to ease her the rest of the way once his lips lost contact with hers. He lifted the edge of her shirt, exposing her breasts and belly, before he began to plant kisses all across it. Reaching with his hands to her hips, he looped his fingers on the edges of her shorts, and as he began to pull them down, he followed their trail with his mouth. Once her shorts reached the point of the counter's edge, he maneuvered them to slide them off of her legs, depositing them somewhere else.

As she lay there, her eyes moving between looking at the ceiling and watching him, slightly embarrassed at her exposed position, Star knew her breasts were rising high due to how hard she was breathing. She then felt his hair begin to drag across her belly as he continued to kiss her skin. But when he began to move lower and lower, towards her warm, pulsing groin, she began to slightly panic. Never had anyone ever gone down on her. That was _not_ something Kozlov had _ever_ done to her. He expected it of _her_ , had her trained to pleasure _him_ , but she had _not_ been there to feel pleasure herself. She had been there to be used.

"Scary," she spoke, sounding out with her slight panicky voice to try and stop him. She began to lift her back up off of the counter, but Star suddenly felt the pressure of his metal arm resting on her chest, right between her breasts. Without hurting her, Scary push her back down so that she was pinned to the counter, while she felt his right hand press her leg further outward, making room for him.

"It's alright, doll," she heard him say with a heavy Yankee accent, his mouth so close to her, that she could feel his breath on her spread lips.

Without another word, she felt his tongue swipe upward over her lips, making her cry out from the unique sensation. It felt like her lungs could not inhale as Scary then began to kiss over her lips, using the same lip-pulling technique that she had introduced him to…maybe? With each tug from him, she reflexively lifted her back, as another cry was extracted from her. He kept his hand on her chest, his fingers gently caressing skin her while fixing her on her back, making sure that she could not leave…not that she actually wanted to.

Star threw her arms up, grabbing a hold of the edge of the countertop near her head, digging her nails into the wood as Scary's tongue began a wonderful assault on her. As she began to squirm from his mouth's encounter, he released her belly and took a hold of both of her ankles. Lifting them up, he placed them on the edge of the countertop, out as far as he could, making her legs spread wide for him.

Even with how long she had been living naked as a prisoner, with all the things that had been done to her, being here right now exposed like this, as her body continued to build higher and higher, Star found herself slightly mortified at being pleasured by Scary. As his tongue fondled every inch of her that it could find, she mewed out loud with pure enjoyment. Just as her body was finally reaching the tipping point, she felt his hands traveling up her sides, under her shirt, until they reached her breasts. Grabbing firmly onto her, he quickened the movements of his tongue.

"Scary!" she cried out wantonly, eyes tightly shut, her nails now embedded in the wood. He then took both of her nipples between his fingers and gave them a firm pinching. That was all that she could handle. As the orgasm rolled over her body, she lost the feeling in her bent legs, causing them to slip from the countertop. But, instead of painfully hitting the surface, they were caught in strong hands and lowered carefully down. Laying on the counter, breathing heavily as her body's spasms became less and less, she opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling above.

"Star, come here," she heard Scary say as she felt his hands begin to slide their way underneath her back, lifting her up off of the countertop. Once she was in a sitting position, she felt her shirt being lifted up and off her body. She was staring at Scary, who was now moving her arms so that they rested over his shoulders, before moving his hands under her butt cheeks. As he lifted her up, she used what strength she could find, to wrap her legs around him as he carried her.

When he sat down on the couch, Scary moved so that he was lying down with her body on top of his, her legs moving to slide in between his as he pulled the blanket from somewhere and laid it over her bare back. Turning her head to look at the fire as her right cheek rested on his covered chest, she wished that it was his bare skin, but she was too comfortable to move and make the request of him to remove his shirt.

Scary's hand then began to slowly run over her head and through her hair, gently stroking her into an even calmer state. She hadn't realized that she was so tired.

* * *

He did not want to fall asleep, but lying there with Star's warm, naked body on top of him, it just felt like the right thing to do. He had been thinking about when she had called out to him, with that tone in her voice, it made him want to never have this day end. He wanted to stay here, and make her scream his name for him, over and over. Feeling her breathing evening out, he knew that she was asleep, so he just let himself drift off also.

Waking up only slightly, he felt Star's body slowly moving over his. She seemed to be going slow, as if she didn't want to disturb him. Feeling the weight of her leave his chest, he felt a disappointment come over him at the loss. But then, he felt her fingertips playing with the elastic edge of his shorts, carefully pulling them down. He could feel her body, her hips, between his legs as she slowly exposed his shaft. Even sleeping, it had not fully softened, due to Star's body nicely rubbing against it.

When he felt her hand slide around the base of it, he finally opened his eyes to watch her. Star was looking up at him with a smirk on her face like he had never seen. As her hand began to squeeze, and then pump firmly at the member, he reached out with his left hand and took a hold of the back of the couch. He said nothing as she continued to pump, getting him harder with each stroke.

Looking down at her, Star never broke eye contact, even as she opened her mouth and allowed her tongue to travel the length of him, from her hand to the tip. Giving the tip a simple sucking kiss, she finally lost his eyes as she tilted her head and allowed the entire hard staff into her warm mouth. As she began to suck on him, her hand at the base still pumping, he threw his head back as far as he could, allowing the sensation to flow over his body at what she was doing to him.

Keeping a steady rhythm with her hand, her mouth traveled downward until it reached her hand. As she slid back off of him, she never lost contact, forming a strong suction with just the tip of his head, while her tongue caressed him. Continuing to move like that, over and over, for the next few minutes, he wondered if the pleasure that she was giving him was the same as he had done to her. He could only hope so, and that this was his reward.

When Star removed her hand from his shaft, he wondered why she would do that, but found his answer as her mouth then was able to travel the entire length of him. He didn't know that she would be able to allow all of it into her mouth, but he felt her firmly pushing down, making her nose come into contact with his stomach. The hand that she had removed then took a hold of his balls, slowly caressing them in her fingers as she continued to suck on him. Her tongue swiped over his sensitive skin, pulling his own cries of pleasure from him, so that she could hear his desire for her to continue.

Reaching up with his right hand, he had to touch the back of her head, he had to keep her all the way down on him longer. After a few extra seconds held down, her lips touching his base, he would release Star just enough before pushing her head back down. When he heard the moan of desire from her, just like when she had been on the counter, he could only hope that this was the right thing to do. He could feel himself wanting to release, but at the same time, he wanted her to keep sucking, which she was eagerly doing. Star must have known he was close, but instead of pulling off, both of her hands wrapped under his cheeks, pushing him deep into her mouth, forbidding him from leaving.

"Star," he called out when he finally came to release, her mouth sucking eagerly as his body spurted, his hips lurching forward with every pump, her nails digging nicely into his skin. Collapsing limp onto the couch exhausted, only then did Star lift her head off of his now softening shaft. As he lay staring at the ceiling, he knew this was how Star had felt. And she had shown him what it had been like. Star sat back, against the opposite end of the couch, breathing almost as heavily as he was. It was a few minutes before he spoke.

"You didn't have to do that," he tilted his head so that he could look at where she was lying back, still mostly between his lower legs.

"I wanted to," was all she said with a smile. "Nobody ever did for me what you did."

He wondered how that was possible, since the entire time his tongue had been exploring her it had been so arousing to him.

"When I touched your head…"

"I knew what you wanted and was already trying to give it to you," Star said smiling.

"You are not mad at me?"

"No, Scary. I'm not mad," Star answered while starting to move back towards him.

Lifting the edges of his pants, she pulled them back over so cover him before moving her body back between his legs and over his chest. Lifting the edge of his shirt, Star tugged firmly until it slid out from under him and then over his head, leaving his chest bare. Dropping it over the back of the couch, Star then placed her face over his chest, rubbing her cheek against his skin until she was comfortable. Her head reached just high enough so that he was able to rest his own head atop of it, while spreading his arms around her shoulders so that he could hold her there.

He saw that the fire was dying down, but there was no way he was moving from this spot. Reaching down to where the blanket had fallen at the foot of the couch, he did his best to cover her nude body before sliding his arms back around her, under the cloth, as they got comfortable again.


	35. A Driving Lesson and Backseat Bingo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mature chapter...

**Song: _Paradise by the Dashboard_ Light by Meatloaf**

* * *

While Star was in the kitchen making them something to eat for lunch, he added more wood to both fireplaces. They had laid on the couch so long, that the fires had burned down enough so there was a slight chill in the air. He hated that he had let it get that cold since it had made Star put back on the long pants she had been wearing early this morning.

But he did need to think about what was going to happen in three days.

The only thing that he was sure of is that there was no way he was going to go through with his mission of killing Star. He would sooner turn the gun on himself before seeing her hurt in any way.

Standing and vacantly looking out of the window, he knew that he needed to make sure that Star would be able to survive once he left her. Leaving her here was not an option, the burning of the house was his extraction signal. His mission parameters were to stay at this location, but he would _have_ to disobey that order.

Where could he take her? There was nobody that he trusted, or knew, that he would expect to help her, only a HYDRA safe house in case of an emergency.

So, who would help her? Who would help a kidnapped American teenage girl that was trapped in the middle of Russia?

The American Embassy in Moscow.

That was the solution he needed. They were only a few hours away, plenty of time to drive her there in one of the cars available outside, and get back here before his extraction time. They had the capability of getting Star back to America, back to her family.

But the officials would ask questions, _lots_ of questions.

She would have to give them as much of the truth as possible, so that it did not trip her up once it came to when she would need to lie...about him and their time here. That should not be a problem. Star did not seem to be one to get overly emotional while dealing with harsh topics, thinking about how she had not even flinched at him shooting the man staked to the ground.

But just because Star would be able to get home, it did not mean that she would be able to survive. She had been taken once, held prisoner, hurt and abused...and he did _not_ like that. The thought of someone touching her, being able to do that to her again…it made him want to hit something.

He needed Star to know what to look out for when it came to someone else trying to hurt her. He would spend the next few days training her. It was not a lot of time, but he could give her what he considered the basics. And he also needed to work out the details of the story Star would need to tell everyone.

* * *

Star put the plates of food on the table, seeing Scary just standing while staring out of the window. His hair was falling across his face, so she could see nothing of his expression. His body was slightly tense, as if he were thinking heavily about something, maybe trying to solve a problem, but she couldn't even guess as to what it would be.

"Scary, the food's ready," she called out to him, but she didn't even see him so much as move, as if he had heard her.

Should she go over to him? He had brooded before, but this was not like those other times. Something new was weighing on him. Then she thought about it clearly. He was going to be leaving soon, in a matter of days, and he couldn't leave her here.

No matter what they had done today, he was still going to have to finish his mission.

Star felt her eyes starting to swell with tears, not sure if they were for her or for him, her face slightly aching, as she knew it started to show the painful emotion building up in her. After the enjoyment they had just shared, the guilt of what he was going to have to do to her would hurt him, which made her insides ache.

Swallowing, to try and get rid of the dry mouth she suddenly had, she turned to face away from where Scary was standing, hoping that his attention was not drawn to her right now. He may have had the impulsive act to save her from the other men, but there was no way that he could save her from himself. Scary should have just killed her this morning, not let her seduce him.

Turning her head slightly, she saw that he was still looking out the window. Slowly, she began to move, heading towards the bedroom door, hoping that the song which was playing would cover any sound that may get his attention, since she was not as sneaky as he was.

Making it inside of the room, she slowly swung the door on the hinges enough so that it was left open just a crack. She hesitated to close it for fear of it making too much noise. Walking around the bed, she stepped over his leather clothes that were still lying on the floor where she had discarded them earlier. Finally reaching the bathroom, she stepped inside and began the careful process of closing the door, slowly turning the handle while hoping it did not squeak.

Once the door was shut, she finally turned the light on over the sink. Looking into the mirror, she saw that her face was indeed red, and it made her appear to have been crying. Sitting down on the edge of the tub, facing the door, she picked up the towel that she had dropped on the floor after getting out of the tub earlier, pressing it onto her face. It was still slightly damp from using it to dry off, cooling her cheeks as it rested on them.

She knew that there was no point in crying over what was going to happen. She had known for days what Scary was going to have to do. Hell, she even knew what Kozlov had been planning to do to her. But now, there was something growing in her, after having spent such wonderful times with Scary today, which was causing her to fear it all ending.

Was it because he had admitted that he had been on the way back here to kill her? Maybe. _Thinking_ that something was going to happen was a lot different than knowing _when_ it was supposed to happen.

Standing up, she took the towel away while moving over to the mirror to see her face. The redness was now mostly gone, only a small flush left on her pale skin. Her eyes didn't seem as bad as when she had come in here. There was slight bruising from where Aleksey had slapped her, but she'd had worse from Kozlov. They would be gone in a day or so.

By now, Scary had to have noticed that she was no longer in the den. There was no point in hiding in here. She needed to go out and face him, without thinking about dying.

Opening the bathroom door, Star didn't even make it past the threshold, due to the large assassin blocking the doorway. Scary was standing there with his arms crossed, staring at her with determination on his face. Talk about facing your fears…

"Do you know how to drive a car?" he simply asked looking down at her.

"What?"

"When you were taken, you had snuck out and rode with a friend in their car. Is this because you do not know how to drive?" he asked not moving from the spot.

"Kind of. We only owned one car, and my dad was worried I might wreck it. He showed me the basics, but I never actually drove it more than a few times," she said wondering why he would even ask such a question.

But, he had remembered when she had told him what happened to her?

"Then let's eat and afterwards, we will get dressed. I will be teaching you how to drive," he dropped his arms, letting his left fall to the side, but offering her his right hand.

Not understanding what was going on, Star placed her hand in his, letting him lead her back to the den.

Sitting down at the table, Scary took his seat and began to eat, not giving any more of an explanation. Of course, she was a bit shocked and didn't bother to question him on the strange topic. Why would she need to know how to drive if she was about to die? There was no way for her to even ask since she was sure it would cause her to start crying, and she could not show Scary any weakness.

After lunch, they headed into the bedroom, both of them choosing warm, normal clothing for the task. Star double her socks to help take up the spare room in the boots, hoping they were a bit dryer. Scary picked up his leather outfit, lying it onto the top of the dresser, placing the face mask and gun belt on top of the pile.

Without a word, Scary led her outside by the front door, walking to where the now three vehicles were parked. The van, Kozlov's nice car, and the invader's junk car, which looked like it wanted to fall apart.

"Do you remember the basics of how to change gears?" he asked as they stood next to the vehicles.

"I think so," she answered but still not understanding the point of this.

"Good because we will need to use Aleksey's car. Get into the driver's seat," he said, handing her a set of keys from his pocket. Walking over to the small car, she found the door unlocked, but hesitated to get inside, instead standing between the open door and the car to look at him.

"What?" Scary asked from the passenger side of the car as he opened his own door.

"Why do I need to learn to drive?" she decided to bluntly ask, making direct eye contact with him, and willing the tears to stay away.

"Because you lack some of the basic necessary skills to survive and to be able to protect yourself. I intend to change that," he said staring over the roof of the car at her.

"Survive?" she rhetorically asked, still not understanding even with his explanation. "Isn't that a bit pointless?"

"No, it is not. Now get into the car," Scary said, bending down to sit in the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind him.

Star let out a huff as she dropped her shoulders, irritate a bit at the bland answer. She then sat down in the driver's seat, closing her own door, but much more gently than Scary had his.

Fiddling with the keys, she found the one that looked correct for the ignition and slipped it inside.

" _Why_ isn't it pointless then?" she decided to try again, checking the gear shift to make sure it was in neutral. Turning the key, she went ahead and cranked the car on so that she could get the heater going. Flipping the lever all the way to red, she hoped that it would warm up quickly in here.

"Because in three days, I am taking you to the American Embassy in Moscow. Once I leave you with them, you need to be able to protect yourself, so that nothing like what has already happened to you will _ever_ happen again," Scary firmly stated, while sitting ridged in the seat as he spoke.

American Embassy?

How could he when…

"But what about your mission?" she asked a bit shocked at his answer.

"I am not…" he started to say, but then drifted off.

She could see a pained emotion cross his face. Watching him, she began to wonder about something.

"Scary," she said quietly, "I didn't have sex with you to try to keep you from killing me. I did it because I wanted to. You don't owe me anything."

"I know that you didn't. This is _my_ choice, just like that was _yours_. I am doing this because _I_ _want_ to," he said giving her a genuine smile. After a few moments, he finished with, "We will discuss this later. Now, put the car into first gear and circle the house."

Star could only look at him with her mouth slightly open.

If he really was planning on taking her to the Embassy, then that meant…she was going to go _home_! That she would see her family and friends again!

Turning to look out of the front window in shock, Star could feel the muscles in her face already starting to hurt from the wide smile that she had. Her hands started to shake and tap the steering wheel, as the rest of her body slowly started to join in.

Not being able to contain it any longer, Star launched herself across the arm rest to impact against Scary as she assaulted him with the biggest hug she had ever given anyone.

After a minute, she felt Scary give the top of her head a kiss, taking her from the reverie of thinking of all the things that she had dreamed of being able to do for the past four years, since being brought to Russia. Crawling back into the driver's seat, she could see that Scary was not upset with her for taking a few moments to thank him, the only way she could right now. She wiped away the tears of happiness that had been steadily falling.

Scary only smiled at her, even though she knew she probably looked horrible right now.

Taking a hold of the gear shift, she pressed the clutch and began to try to maneuver the stick into place. The first few minutes were a lot of jerky movements, with Scary's eyes going wide and lots of cursing from both of them. Figuring out the maneuver, the two of them drove around the yard and up and down the long driveway.

Luckily, it was long enough so that she was able to hit multiple gears traveling it. Scary was hesitant about having her go out onto the paved road, not knowing what locals, or officials, they may run into.

When he then told her that she needed to know a bit of offensive driving, she had no idea what he meant. After describing what he wanted her to do, she got a wide grin on her face.

"Just call me Bandit," she smiled, putting the car into first gear. Scary just stared at her.

"Kowalski?" but that also got her nothing.

"The Driver?" she said exasperatedly, which Scary finally perked up to.

"Yes, you are the driver, now drive," he said pointing at the road before them.

"You _really_ need to watch some movies, dude," she said stepping hard onto the gas pedal as Scary grabbed the door handle tightly.

After she had made numerous fast laps and circles, he had her learning how to do j-turn to change direction fast. He then positioned the kennel she had been brought here in off to the side of the road. Instructing her on what to do, Star then kicked the back of the car out so that it impacted the kennel, sending it flying into the woods. He pointed out that it was a good maneuver to use to take out standing targets. Star just looked at him and nodded, not really knowing how to respond to that, but at least she now could do a cool move.

He then pointed out that if someone was chasing her, to slam on the brakes, go in reverse and hit them as hard as possible. This would damage the engine of their car, possibly disabling it, where as hers would keep going. Star started to wonder how often Scary had used these moves if he considered this the 'basics of survival'.

Scary then instructed her to put the car into reverse and make the same trips around the house and on the road, as when she had been moving forward. This was much harder, as well as much slower, and she ended up taking out a couple of the smaller trees along the edge of the tree line, but Scary kept pushing her to do better.

After she had been driving backwards for so long that her neck was tired from looking behind her and also trying to use the mirror, he finally relented saying that she had done well for the day. Pulling back into the same parking spot the car had been earlier, Star turned it off and sat there, another smile on her face.

"That was actually kind of fun," Star said looking over at him.

"That was actually kind of scary," Scary said seeming to let out a held breath. She gave his left arm a smack.

"This was your idea. You have no one else to blame," she said letting the car continue to run the heater. "But I do kind of feel like one of _Charlie's Angels_ , being a girl and all," but she saw that Scary had no idea about the reference. "Never mind."

"At least you didn't take out the house," he responded with a grin. "Alright, now out of the car, open the trunk and let's see what's back there."

Star opened her door and followed him to the back of the car. Using the key, she lifted the trunk's lid, revealing mostly junk inside. Scary then began to scatter the items around before pulling out a cloth bag which looked heavy. He opened it up and seemed satisfied with what was inside. Closing down the trunk, he took her hand and led her over to the side of the car.

"Here," he said holding out the bag for her to take, which she did. It was indeed heavy, with metal clicking together. "You are going to remove the back tire and the replace it, all by yourself."

"What? Why?" she asked opening the bag to look inside. She had seen her father used tools like then when he changed out a flat tire, a jack and a lug nut wrench.

"Because the easiest way to disable a vehicle is to puncture the tire. It will immobilize the target at a location of your choosing, not theirs. You need to know how to be able to change a tire in case someone tries it with you," he said pointing at the rear tire. She didn't want to argue with him about this. If learning a couple of necessary life skills was what he considered payment for letting her live, then she would do them, so she needed to stop asking questions. "Have you seen it done before or do you know how?"

"Remove the nuts with bar, but I'm not sure of how to use the jack," she said placing the item onto the ground.

Scary then took the time to explain placement of the jack, as well as going into what a cut brake line looks like as the two of them lay on their backs looking under the vehicle, before talking about different ways to disable a car. Star figured that sometimes when you wanted a target taken out, and not raise suspicions, a car accident would work so Scary needed to know more than only how to use a gun.

When she had put the tire back on for the third time, Scary said he was satisfied with her work. The sun was already behind the trees, barely giving enough light for her to finish the job. Placing the jack and iron back into the trunk, he closed it down, looking over at her. Leaning against the back door of the car, smiling at him, she motioned with her finger for him to come towards her, which he did.

"So, we've practiced driving the car and changing out the tire. Are we going to practice some backseat bingo?" Star asked while opening the rear door of the car and sitting down on the edge of the seat. Scary moved closer to the left side where she was now scooting further into the car.

"I do not know that term," he said putting his arms on the top of the car and looking inside at her.

"Then _I'll_ have to teach _you_ something," she was patting the empty seat area next to her. Scary then got a smile on his face as if he suspected what was about to happen.

Sitting down and pulling his legs in, he shut the door behind him. Star then turned so that she was facing him, lifting both of her legs over his so that she was almost sitting in Scary's lap. He turned just enough so that he had a better angle to get to her, his lips quickly finding hers. His arms wrapped around her waist, while hers went around his neck, holding the two of them together.

For the next few minutes, the two of them let their hands explore the other. As she rubbed her hands over his chest, she could feel the raised skin where his arm connected, the smooth metal slightly cold. Scary was touching her with the metal arm, but she noticed that it was always a much gentler touch than his right hand. Earlier, she had not noticed a difference, but he may have been caught up in the moment and not able to think about it.

Moving her legs, Star slid them so that she was now straddling him, while he sat back on the seat.

"You don't have to worry about hurting me, Scary," she said, pulling back from their kisses and taking his left hand into hers so that he understood. "I'll let you know if it's too much."

With that, he began to touch her once again, but this time, his touches were firmer, while her arms went around his neck. Reaching up under her shirt, he took her breast in his left hand, squeezing with just enough force to make her cry out. There was no mistaking that it was from pleasure and not pain.

Throwing her head back, Scary's lips then began to move across her neck as he continued to knead her, his thumb flicking her nipple every so often. She then felt his right hand rub over her belly, slowly moving downward towards her pants. Without stopping, Scary slipped his hand inside, his fingers finding her folds already moist.

"Lean back and hold on to the seats behind you, Star," he instructed her, giving one of her lips a soft pinch to get her attention. She could only nod as she reached back and wrapped her arms around the headrest of the front seats, using them to hold her away from him, with her shoulders resting on each side of the seats.

Scary then used both hands to pull her pants down as far as he was able before grabbing her left leg, and removing her boot, then duplicating the act with her other leg. Sliding her pants off of her leg, she knelt over him with her legs opened. Scary then reached down and began to pull at his own pants, letting them fall around his ankles on the floor. Guiding her body by grabbing her hips with his hands, he slid her down his legs onto his waiting, hard shaft.

Reaching up, he took hold of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head, but stopping there so that it was not fully removed and resting behind her head. Now, her breasts were exposed right in front of him. Leaning forward, he grabbed one with his left hand and planted his mouth onto the other. Star began to moan at how turned on she found herself right now.

Scary's right hand then went under her butt cheeks, lifting and lowering her on him, while she used her legs to help with the action as the minutes began to pass. All the while, she held onto the headrest for support, knowing that in doing so, it displayed her fixed body for Scary to use.

As she continued to grind down on him, moaning out at the sensation it was causing through her body, Scary's right hand moved back between her legs. Rubbing hard over her swollen lips, she couldn't stop the build-up that he was causing.

"Scream for me Star. Scream my name," he rumbled out while pinching down hard in just the right spot. That was all that she could take.

"Scary!" she yelled loudly in the car as felt her body spasm while she continued to straddle him, his own pumping taking over when her legs were too weak to continue.

It was only a few thrusts later when she felt his own body tighten, his hands gripping hard on her hips to hold her in place. Letting go of the headrests, Star allowed her body to lean forward, coming to rest against Scary's chest, still impaled on him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

All she could do was sit there while holding on Scary's neck as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel the rise of his chest as he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tight to him, neither one of them seeming to want the moment over.

Opening her eyes, she looked out of the foggy back window of the car and realized that the sun had gone done, the entire exterior of the car was black. How long had they been in the back seat?

Looking over towards the house, she noticed that it was also dark. They had been outside since lunch and hadn't been back inside to turn on any lights.

"We should go inside," he whispered into her ear as he began to nuzzle his face against her neck.

"Alright. Something to eat _would_ be nice," she said giving the side of his face a gentle kiss.

"Isn't that supposed to be what _I_ say?" Scary chuckled as the two of them began to untangle their bodies and straighten their clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's commented, it excites me to know that there are others out there enjoying my story.


	36. Bath Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another mature chapter...

**Song: _Night Moves_ by Bob Seger**

* * *

While Star was cooking them dinner, he moved between the two rooms dealing with the fireplaces. The fires were both so low he decided to take the time to clean out the hearth, for the last time he realized. But as he thought that, it didn't bring the exact same sadness to him. At least now, he knew that Star would be alive.

She had done well with learning to drive, as well as with changing the tire. Star had not even complained once as he continued to push her to do better. He had already decided that tomorrow, she would learn how to defend herself from a person. But, she also needed to know how to escape if someone went after her again.

When Star called to him that dinner was ready, he noticed that she seemed to have a lightness to her steps as she moved between the kitchen area and the table while bringing their plates over. It was because she was happy, he gathered. Happy that she was going home. That he was sparing her. Even over the past few days, she had been more relaxed than she had been at first, but now her body language was much freer with her emotions.

Sitting down at the table, he saw that she had placed a large handful of Turkish Delights in the center of the table on a napkin. Glancing over at Star as she got them something to drink with dinner, he saw that her head was slightly turned to where she was able to see the table. He knew that if he reached for one, she would have something to say about it, so instead, he lifted his fork and began to eat, holding in the smile from her playful action. He waited until Star carried the drinks over and sat down before he decided to have the talk with her about going home.

"For me to be able to leave you at the Embassy, you will have to tell them the story that I have worked out, exactly the same way, every single time that they question you. Do you understand?" he began between bites.

"Yes. They will question me about Kozlov a lot, won't they?" Star asked seeming to get a sadness to her voice.

"Yes. He is well known with lots of criminal connections. It helps that you never learned to speak Russian since you will not be feigning ignorance of a lot of his dealings. Anything that happened up until the time that you arrived here, you can answer freely. But you will have to say that you did not arrive here, at this location, until the three days before I take you to the Embassy. They cannot ever know that the two of us were here together, for _any_ amount of time. It would be dangerous," he said, dreading having to tell her the full truth. He did not want Star scared of him for the next few days. But when she left here, she needed to be...in case HYDRA deemed her a target, if she faltered with her story. But how exactly could he explain what was going to happen? Nobody outside of HYDRA should ever be aware of his project.

"Where should I tell them that we were for the past few days?" she asked, pulling his attention back to the current topic.

"Any other safe house of Kozlov's in the area, or even further away. It doesn't matter as long as you have actually been there so that if they try and confirm your story, that your description will match," he answered. "You will say that you were brought here today. You will need to come up with a believable story as to what Kozlov had you doing for the next three days. If you make it uncomfortable for them to hear, they may not have you repeat it many times, but it would be best if it were real, so that you do not stumble while telling the story," he said hating to think about what story Star probably already had that would work.

"That is not a problem, Scary. So, today, tomorrow and then the next. What do I say happens so that I end up at the Embassy?" she asked continuing to eat. She was taking all of this fairly well, he noticed.

"On the last day, you will tell them about how the three men showed up here in pursuit of Kozlov, to try and kill him. But, you will say that as they were storming the place, that they were all killed, along with the guards as well as Kozlov. During this time, you were able to escape, run down the road, and take their car to leave. Do not use Aleksey's name, ever. You would not have heard it. But, you will tell them of a man in black emerging from the woods carrying guns and killing everyone else," he stated.

"You? You want me to mention you?" she asked and he could see that she did not understand.

"Yes. It would work well with the story that you saw who was killing the men and guards, without it being an unknown entity when the authorities come to investigate. Besides, it would only add to the rumors surrounding my existence," he said with a smile as he took another bite of dinner. It was already starting to grow cold as they talked instead of eating. "We will work out more of the details later. Eat."

Star remained quiet for the rest of the meal as she seemed to be thinking about the information that he had given her. Finishing up his own meal, he reached forward and took a piece of his dessert. He noticed that Star actually scanned his empty plate to make sure that he finished before getting the piece. He found it amusing that she was still nagging at him about such a little thing, but then he remembered their run in the woods and he wondered if every time that she had picked on him, if she had been thinking about how he had licked the sugar from her fingers.

Star had mentioned it earlier this morning, while they laid in the bed. Then he thought about when she had pushed him back against the wall, poking at him with her finger, before the towel on her head had fallen down. Star had already mentioned that she had been waiting for him to act upon the things that he had been doing to her. Had she actually been trying to provoke him into touching her...into kissing her?

Looking over to where Star was now washing their dishes, he wondered what she would do if he teased her like she had done to him. Picking up a piece of the sweets, he stalked quietly over so that he was standing right behind her. She never even noticed as she continued to hum with the song playing softly in the background. As he really began to watch Star, he saw that she was slightly swaying with her hips, not exactly dancing but it did remind him of how her body had moved while on top of him.

Holding the sweet in his right hand, he moved his arm so that it suddenly appeared next to her, just over her shoulder. He loved the small jump that Star gave at being startled by him. How he was going to miss doing that to her.

"Scary," she said turning slightly so that she was able to push her elbow into his chest with barely any force, "Will you stop doing that?"

"No," he simply said as he held the sweet right in front of her. When her eyes finally focused on what he was offering to her, a smirk appeared on her face. As he saw her hand reaching up to take the item, he shook his head and said, "Open up."

Star then gave him a look like she was trying to figure something out but he watched as her lips parted, her tongue slightly forward so that he could place the item onto it. Holding the sweet with his two fingers, similar to how Star had held the piece the other day, he moved his hand forward towards her mouth. Just as he was about to reach her, Star reached out and took a hold of his wrist, just as he had done to her. Leaning forward, she slipped her entire mouth over his fingers, taking the object with her tongue, sliding its warm moistness over his fingers as she sucked down firmly on them. It was so similar to what he had done to her that it told him that Star had indeed been remembering the event.

"Now go away while I finish washing dishes, Scary," Star said with a grin knowing what she had just done to him as she turned back around to face the sink. Instead of walking away, he wrapped his arms around her slender waist, holding her to him as she worked. Star didn't complain, but she did shake her head slightly as she gave into his silent demand for affection.

As he held her, his mind began to wander three days ahead, to his extraction day. They would reach the base late that night. He would have to give his briefing on the mission at that time, no delays. Then he would be given time to clean up before being escorted to the main chamber, where his cryostasis chamber and the Chair waited. He hoped that they did not suspect anything and decide to use his compliance words to get the truth from him. If they did, Star was as good as dead.

He knew what would happened if he slipped up when it came to his side of the story that must be told, but if Star said something wrong, or forgot an important detail, it could get the attention of someone, putting her into danger. And that danger may even be him. He could see HYDRA sending him out to eliminate her if they suspected that she knew too much about them or him. And he would not even remember her. She would be just another target, someone to put a bullet into, which he would do without any hesitation. He could only hope that if Star messed up, that someone else was sent to eliminate her. He hated to think that he would be able to do that to her.

"Alright, I'm done," Star said drying her hands on the towel, throwing it on the counter, waiting for him to release her so she could move. Instead he just held her, hoping that she didn't mess up the story.

"Star, you need to make sure that you _never_ mention our time here together. Ever. To anyone. HYDRA has people _everywhere_. There is _nobody_ that you will _ever_ be able to trust," he said gripping her just a bit tighter.

"I think I understand," Star said placing her arms over his as they just stood there. "Since it's been five minutes since you ate, would you like some popcorn?"

He heard the playfulness in her voice as she teased him. Since he already had a grip on her waist, it was easy to pick her up off of the floor. Giving her just a little toss up in the air, he was able to spin her body so that when he caught her, she was now facing him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her.

"Don't do that," she laughed while wiggling against him in a very nice way.

"You're lucky we aren't outside, otherwise I could throw you much higher. How many other people can say they are able to throw a Star into the sky?" he said grinning at her.

"Don't you dare, Scary, otherwise, you'll have to cook for yourself," Star threatened, trying to give him a stern look.

"I think I would be able to find some way to convince you to cook," he said turning around so that he was able to place Star back onto the countertop like she had been before, this time, with a lot more clothing unfortunately. Leaning in he gave her a kiss, as Star used her legs once again to pull his body close in tight to hers. He kissed her for a while before moving down her neck to any visible skin that his lips could find. This lasted for a couple of minutes, as he listened to Star beginning to breath heavily, as her hands ran their way through his hair and over his scalp. The feel of her fingernails against his skin sent a shiver down his body.

"Yeah, that would probably convince me to cook," Star said when he finally pulled away from her. "So does that mean you don't want popcorn?"

Without waiting for an answer, she gave him a firm kiss. When she pulled back, he answered her.

"Of course I do. But maybe in a few more minutes," he said leaning back in so that he could run his hands under her shirt and across her back. Star let him hold and kiss her, letting him touch her for a bit longer before he finally back away entirely, offering her his hands so that she could jump down from the counter.

"Go get a few pillows and an extra blanket for the couch while I get the snack ready," Star ordered while pushing him out of the kitchen, which was probably the only reason that he left her immediate vicinity.

He took a couple of pillows from the bed, placing them on the end of the couch to make a nice soft area to lay back on. He doubted that they would need another blanket knowing how warm he was, but he got it anyways. Sitting down on the couch against the pillows, he watched as Star cooked the popcorn, then grabbed them two bottles of soda from the fridge. He went ahead and locked the house down before getting as comfortable as he could alone on the couch.

Setting the large bowl down on the hearth, just where they could reach it, along with the sodas, Star then went over to the player and selected a couple of record to sit on the spindle. He saw that with the number of records selected, they would not have to get up for a while. Star then came back over to where he was waiting, sliding her body onto the couch, positioning herself between his open legs.

"Ok, then, Scary. Is there anything else that you want to talk with me about when it comes to safety?" she asked placing her head onto his chest, making herself comfortable.

"I can think of a number of things," he said as he wrapped his right arm around her. For the next few hours, he talked with her about simple things that she needed to do, starting with not walking alone in a parking lot, which earned him a smack on the chest.

He talked about what to look for when it came to someone breaking into a place to search it, like he had been trained to do to study a target. Star would listen as he talked about what he would do if he were to go after someone, but he didn't think that she realized that he was trying to warn her about him. He hoped that he gave her enough information so that if he were sent after her, that she would somehow be able to avoid him. Or that he might recognize his own technique and be curious enough to question the target, Star, before taking them out. Maybe if he spoke with her again, it may stir just enough of something in him that he would stop himself.

When the needle made it to the end of the final record, and the popcorn and sodas were all gone, they sat there, reluctant to get up, but the hour was getting late. He was still going to train her tomorrow so they needed to get some sleep.

"Come on, Scary," Star finally said lifting herself up off of him and standing next to the couch, offering him her hand, as if he needed help to rise. Even though he didn't, he would never turn down the offer of holding onto her. Turning off the single light that they had left on as they cuddled, they made their way to the bedroom. As he was about to drop down onto the bed, Star's hand grabbed his own, stopping him.

"Oh, no, you are not getting into bed yet," she said starting to pull him towards the bathroom. "Shower time. You got a bit sweaty and dirty today."

He was about to argue as she turned on the water to let it get warm, but then Star reached down and lifted her shirt over her head. Once she lowered her pants, stepping out of them, as well as her socks, so that she was standing there totally naked, Star looked over at him, not having moved at all as he watched her.

"Come on, or we'll lose all the hot water," she said stepping inside of the tub and turning on the shower-head. That was all that it took for him get out of his own clothes as fast as he could. He was not sure exactly what he expected to happen, but he already knew that anything that involved Star naked was going to be nice.

It was cramped with the two of them standing so he decided to make some room by wrapping his arms around her. Star then backed up so that the water splashed down onto the both of them, passing over her head and hitting his chest. She reached up to take his head in her hands and pulling it down so that the water soaked his hair. Once she was satisfied that it was drenched, she released him before reaching over and picking up the shampoo.

"Switch with me," Star said as she started to move, trying to get to the back of the tub. As they passed each other, their bare chest rubbed together, making him reach out to grab her, but as his hands moved, Star playfully smacked his right hand with hers, stopping him. "Stop."

Now, standing with the water hitting him on the back, Star poured a large amount of shampoo into her hand, and put the bottle down before rubbing her palms together. Reaching up again, she began to massage the product into his hair. The feeling of her fingers running over his head was so soothing, nothing like he had ever had done to him before. His showers at the base consisted of barely warm water and a bar of soap to clean away any blood. He closed his eyes as he just enjoyed the touch of her fingers. After a moment, he lifted his arms, planting his hands wide on the wall behind her, giving her plenty of space between. He stayed like that, relaxed and not caring about anything else but her gentle touch.

"Alright, Scary, rinse that out," he heard Star finally say, pulling him out of the wonderful place his mind had been. Taking a step back, he ran his hands through his hair, working all of the white sudsy bubbles free.

Opening his eyes when he was done, he was greeted by the sight of Star naked in front of him, working the bar of soap in a twisty pattern in her hands. Once they were lathered up, she then reached and began to work her hands over his chest. She ran her right hand to just where his skin connected to metal, before making its way back to his pecks. Her other hand ran the entire length of his arm before moving back. Then she began to work both hands down, rubbing his sides, coming back to his stomach before they traveled even further down.

As her hands teased him by going to the outside of his hips, then traveling down to his upper thigh, he groaned in disappointment. He saw that the sound caused one side of her mouth to move slightly upwards. Suddenly her hands made contact where he had hoped they would. Wrapping one hand around his shaft, her other reached underneath, cupping him in her palm. Star then began to stoke him, the slipperiness of her hand allowing her to give a slight twisting motion that was not uncomfortable at all. By the second stroke, his hands planted themselves on the wall behind her again, but this time he needed them for support.

"Are you alright, Scary?" he heard her ask but all he could do was nod his head, not daring to open his eyes, fearing that it would cause this dream to end. He had been mostly hard for the past few hours, trying to keep himself in check, but the moment Star's finger wrapped him, there was no holding back. She continued to stroke firmly, all along him, with her thumb rubbing over his head every few strokes as a tease. Her other hand persisted in caressing his balls which had grown firm.

With a couple of final firm tugs, he could not hold it in any more. Grinding his teeth together to try and not fall apart, his body finally released itself as Star gave a few final yanks. Standing straighter, Star brought herself up so that she could kiss him, his softening shaft still finding a home in her hand. He brought his arms down so that they held her tightly to him, not ever wanting to let her go, never wanting to forget this feeling. Not wanting to forget her. But he would. In a matter of days.

Star released his soften shaft, rinsing herself clean, and wrapped her own arms around him as they stood there for a few minutes, much longer than he should have. He was going to lose all of this. Every gentle touch, every kiss, every laugh. But she would be safe. She had to know that something was bothering him, but she never questioned him, she just held him. When he finally pulled back, he saw that he had covered her chest with the soap from his own.

"I was laying on top of you for hours. I thought you could use that," Star said giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Rinse off so I can wash really quick."

It was less than a minute before he was stepping out of the shower, letting Star be able to wash her hair. He dressed in a pair of boxers after drying off, not wanting to wear anything else that would keep her from him as he held her tonight as they slept. He stoked the fire, added a few logs and double checked the rest of the house to make sure it was secure. When he got back to the bedroom, Star was slipping on a set of boxers also, with a shirt sitting on the bed for her to wear. Sitting down, he reached over and picked up the shirt, tossing it onto the top of the dresser.

"Why did you do that?" she asked looking over at him.

"You won't need it, remember? Naughty word," he grinned at her. Star shook her head and rolled her eyes, but she didn't say any more about his action. She took a few minutes to towel dry her hair and brush it before braiding it into one long strand.

Turning off the bathroom light, it left only the light of the fire to illuminate the room. When she crawled into bed next to him, he instantly reached over and pulled her close to him causing her to squeak, her back stopping against his chest. Her right hand found his flesh one, intertwining their fingers as her left hand moved to find his, once again lying under her pillow. She kept prodding with her fingers until he reluctantly opened up and held that hand as well. He was really enjoying sleeping in this position with Star.

"Good night, Scary," she said turning her head around towards him. He leaned over and gave her a firm kiss.

"Good night, my Star," he said adjusting just a little, so that her body was protectively encased by his.


	37. Day Eight - Scary Learns of Star's Secret

**Song: _Victim of Changes_ by Judas Priest**

* * *

**Day Eight  
**

* * *

Waking up the next morning, he could feel Star still wrapped in his arm, her body nicely fitting into his. The fire was low, as was the sun, since the window was still dark. But he knew that she was warm being so close to him. He smiled as he rubbed his chest slightly over her bare back, trying to not disturb, her but needing to touch her more. So much had changed since this time yesterday morning. He had been waking up, alone, determined to kill her to stop everything that he had been suppressing that he had now eagerly embraced. If he really considered it, he owed a thanks to Aleksey and the others that he had killed for showing up and stopping him.

He began to consider exactly what type of training that he needed to focus on today. Maybe it would be best to do a couple of different types, that way if Star needed to work more on anything then they would have tomorrow to train. She needed to be able to prevent being grabbed and taken the same way she had been. That would be very important. Star would have to tell and show him what the man who had taken her had done. She would also need to know how to run, hide from, and loose anyone who chased her. He started to think that he may enjoy that part of her training. He had certainly enjoyed their last run through the woods.

It was a long time later when he finally noticed Star beginning to stir from her sleep. As she stretched, she forced his legs apart so that she was able to slide one of her legs between his, her foot beginning to rub against his calf. This was much better than how he was used to waking up, by being dragged by his arms across the concrete floor and being tossed into the Chair.

Letting her hand drop from his, he pressed it against her stomach, rubbing small circles with his thumb and fingers on her smooth skin. He could feel her body jerk slightly as it slightly tickled her. Moving his hand a bit more, he felt his fingers touch the top of her boxers. It then reminded him of the small thin scar that he had questioned her about the other day, which had made her angry and run from him. He didn't like not knowing what it was, at not having an answer about something, so he quickly formulated a plan.

Moving just enough so that he was able to let Star's body lie down onto her back, he maneuvered himself between her legs. His hands traced along her limbs until they reached her wrists. Once there, he moved her arms so that they were pinned right next to her head. Bending down over her, he began by kissing her tattoo, staring at it, hoping that he could somehow implant a memory of it that the Chair would not be able to steal from him. Kissing his way across her collarbone, he reached her neck, to which Star lifted her head to give him easier access. She was not scared of him being on top of her like this at all, but that was probably about to change.

He quickly moved his legs from being between hers so that they were outside pressing her legs together, his lower legs crossed on top of hers, his body resting on top of her. Now she was effectively pinned down. Looking up to her face, he saw that her expression had indeed changed, it was not fear, but more of aroused curiosity.

"Star," he started off by leaning down and kissing her neck again, "I want you to tell me where the scar on your lower belly came from."

He watched as her eyes narrowed and her lips became thin lines as she pressed them together. She now began to struggle, but there was no way she would ever be able to get away from him as he now had her pinned. It then worried him that someone else may be able to do this same maneuver with her, so he would have to try to teach her what to do to try freeing herself later.

"Let me go, Scary!" she angrily implored, trying to pull her arms free, but not succeeding.

"Tell me," he said in his most demanding voice. Star closed her eyes and shook her head defiantly.

"Was it Kozlov?" he asked.

After a moment, Star's struggling subsided and her body began to relax. She had accepted that he would not let her go without knowing the answer.

"Yes," he heard her whisper.

Leaning down, he kissed her cheek gently, whispering into her ear, in words that he felt he had spoken too often, "Tell me."

He had to wait a few moments as Star's breathing became erratic, but she began to talk.

"It was the very first thing he did to me after he purchased me," she started speaking in a very low voice, her eyes closed refusing to look at him. He could hear her voice wavering, as if trying to not cry. "He had me delivered to a doctor of some kind who did the procedure for him when he got his new pets."

So whatever it was, Kozlov had it done to the other females buried outside.

"I fought as his men strapped me naked to a medical table with straps and leather cuffs that were very tight. They went everywhere over my body so that I could not move at all. As the doctor began to inject a needle where the scar is, Kozlov came over to me. He told me that he was not going to waste his money on putting me to sleep during the procedure, and that I should be grateful he was allowing the doctor to numb the area so that I didn't move from the pain. I began to fight and scream, trying to stop whatever was about to happen. That was when Kozlov put this thing in my mouth, some kind of rubber piece that was shaped like my teeth."

He knew exactly what she was talking about, the bite guard that his own Handlers used on him.

"Kozlov then began to wrap a bandage around my face, holding it inside as I screamed. Then he told the doctor to start. I still didn't know what was happening, but then Kozlov ordered one of him men to lift my head so that I was forced to watch as the scalpel sliced me open. Before he left, they were ordered to slap my face if I closed my eyes. They held me like that as the doctor's hands worked their way inside. I could only scream as he began to remove pieces of my body from inside. As he was stitching me up, Kozlov came back into the room. He said that now he would not have to worry about getting me pregnant or dealing with my monthly 'woman problems'. He told me that I was nothing more than a sterilized pet, just like a dog...his pet. He then locked the collar around my neck."

He had watched her face as she spoke, the tears running down her face, but not once did she open her eyes to look at him. Moving slowly, he lay back to her side. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled Star close to him, their chests touching as he just held her. Her body shook from the quiet sobs that continued for a few minutes. Eventually her arm went around his side, holding onto him. His chin rested on the top of her head, not a word being spoken between them.

He had not even considered the possible consequences of what they had done yesterday. But Star had already known that it was not something to worry about. At least he knew now what had been done to her, with a small piece of him wishing that he still didn't know. Eventually he noticed that Star's body was now still, and her breathing had evened out, making him guess that she had fallen back asleep. Waiting a few more minutes to make sure, he then slowly laid her down so she would be comfortable, and carefully crawled out of the bed so that he could give her some time to rest from having to relive that.

Shutting the bedroom door after adding a log to the fire, he began to search the kitchen for something he felt comfortable enough making for them for breakfast. He had watched Star for days, and she made it seem so easy. He could do this.

* * *

As Star woke up a second time, she quickly realized that she was alone in the bed. Scary was not even in the room, the door to the den shut. Then her mind replayed what had happened earlier. He had made her tell him about the scar. She had woken up feeling safe in his arms, then he had begun to kiss her. She had been looking forward to a morning romp, but instead he had tricked her.

Going through the procedure, it had broken something inside of her. Maybe because it was the first thing that Kozlov had done to her. Everything after that was just another torture to live through. It was the only thing done to her that still upset her. After only a short time of being with Kozlov, in a sick way, she was glad that it had happened. Bearing a child of that vicious pig would not have been something that she would have allowed to have occur.

And now, Scary knew what she was, what Kozlov had turned her into. Reaching over to touch his side of the bed, she found it cold. He had been gone for some time. Probably right after she had finished telling him. Repulsed by her. She curled up and pulled the cover around her, trying to forget having to tell the story. Until the other day when he had asked, it was easy to not think of. It had been so long ago.

Star then heard the door to the bedroom open. Feeling the bed sink down behind her, she felt his arm go around her waist. She wondered how he could stand to touch her now that he knew. But instead, Scary was rolling her over on the bed so that she was now lying on her back, with him right next to her.

"Time to wake up," he said as she felt his hair brushing against her bare chest. Before she could say anything, his lips took one of her nipples into his mouth, gently nipping it. She couldn't have stopped the moan that escaped her lips if she tried. "Breakfast is ready."

"What?" she wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. Scary then sucked on her other nipple, causing another moan.

"I cooked, kind of, while I let you get some more sleep," he was running small kisses over her tattoo. "And if you don't get up now, we are going to stay here for a while."

She put her hands on the sides of his head, lifting him up off of her so that she could see his eyes. As he looked at her, she didn't see the repulsion that she had been expecting.

"You still want to touch me, even after what I told you?" she hesitantly asked.

"Of course. Why would you think that I wouldn't?" he asked arranging himself so that he was sitting upright beside her. She saw he had her shirt laying on the bed to put on.

"You're not disgusted?" she asked trying to see if his expression matched his answer.

"That is the last thing I would be because of you, or because of anything that happened to you. Kozlov was a sick bastard that I wish I had made suffer for what he did to you," he said reaching down and taking her hand. "And I intend to make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. So, get up, eat, and then we get changed for more training."

Without waiting for an answer, Scary pulled her into a sitting position. He stood and picked up the shirt he had denied her last night, slipping it over her head for her.

"That's not as much fun as taking it off," he grinned while offering her his hand as she put her arms through the holes.

Standing up with his help, she followed Scary out of the bedroom and found that the table was set with food for them. He had sliced up some of the fruit, toasted bread, and scrambled some eggs. Not bad.

"The coffee didn't come out right," Scary said as he stood behind her, giving her a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Give me a minute," she said walking into the kitchen. As she dumped and then rinsed the pot out, Scary came up behind her, once again wrapping his arms around her. He watched quietly as she worked to get his favorite drink ready. When it was going, she turned around, his arms never leaving her, as he gave her a kiss and a smile. Feeling Scary's warm embrace, Star began to think that maybe she _was_ something more than what Kozlov had turned her into...

They quickly ate as Scary explained that they would be spending the day outside, doing different types of training. As they changed, she watched as Scary put on his full Winter Soldier outfit. How much things had changed between then since she watched him walk out of the door yesterday morning. Moving back to the kitchen, Scary pulled down the bag of guns from the top of the cabinet, pulling out a couple with lots of ammo to go with them. He loaded up his holsters before starting to hide knives all over his body. She wasn't sure where some of them even ended up, they just disappeared.

"You are going to practice working with a pistol again. Something that you can buy once you get home, for protection. You _will_ practice often," he said loading up the smaller pack with the spare bullets and guns. She was dressed as she had been days ago, dark clothing and the boots. There was something about going out with Scary this time that was different, less fun and more serious. He was worried about her, and knowing that he did, gave her a warm feeling in her chest.

They made it out to the lake, but this time they didn't set up the tarp. He started her off with loading the magazine, before correcting her stance and grip on the gun for a couple of minutes. Eventually, she was able to duplicate everything to his satisfaction, but it took numerous tries. He had yet to let her fire the gun. Walk, stance, grip, and aim. Over and over.

"Now, like last time, target a closer tree, then move, target further away, move again and finish with a target far away," he said stepping behind her as she decided on which trees to go after. For the next few minutes, she fired shot after shot, as Scary corrected her little by little, every reloaded magazine seeming to be easier. But then he started to have her move as she aimed at a target. That was a lot harder. But Scary would not relent as the next hour passed.

"Again," he said as he reloaded a magazine for her. He had her traveling up and down the path aiming at a distant tree, forcing her to deal with the closer ones that blocked her target. "Your enemy will not make it easy for you and you will not make it easy on them. Keep moving, use your environment to your advantage. Drop to the ground to fire at a target, they will not expect fire from a low area."

"Scary," she started, putting the gun on safety, "can we take a few minutes brake?"

He looked over at her, but with the mask there was no way to tell what his expression was, but if she had to guess, it was probably disappointment. But she was not used to moving like this, not stopping for so long of a time. When she got home, she would maybe take up running to help with that.

"Five minutes, then we will work on something else," Scary said heading back to the larger clearing at the lakeside. Following him, she watched as he sat on the fallen log. Instead of sitting next to him, she went over to the tree and pulled herself up onto the same limb as last time. By the time she got settled, she looked down to find Scary standing right next to the tree, leaning on it.

"How did you do that? There are leaves," she asked pointing at the ground which should have made _some_ noise as he moved. Instead, Scary just stared at her.

"What are you doing up there? There are no snakes around, the snow will have driven them underground," he said looking up at her.

"I don't care," she said crossing her arms.

"You do know that snakes can climb trees," he decided to add.

"If I've never seen it then it doesn't exist," she threw out at him with a smug smile.

"People say the same thing about me, and they are wrong," he pointed out.

"Why did you go out into the woods last time and start beating up the trees?" she decided to ask. She watched his head drop slightly.

"I didn't know how to handle what I was feeling when you ran and I caught you," he admitted leaning back on the tree, looking out over the lake. "I had ignored it for the past few days, but by then, I just needed to hit something."

Star then dropped down out of the tree, landing right next to him. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Scary's arm reached out and grabbed her, pinning her back against the tree. He was still wearing his mask so he didn't try and kiss her, but his hands held her wrists, lifting them above her head against the tree.

"So, Star, how would you get out of this situation?" he said with a menacing voice, but she was not frightened of him anymore. She then pressed her body against his, making sure to round her hips into his.

"Here I was thinking you wanted something else, and all you want is another lesson," she huffed out, staring at him.

"I do want something else, and if you do well today, maybe I'll let you know what that is," his voice had a growl to it that sent a shiver through her. "But for now, you are going to learn how to escape a predator."

"Is that what you are, a predator?" she asked giving her wrists a tug to see if they could get loose.

"I'm the worst predator out there," his voice brazen while dropping his head slightly, his eyes going to an icy blue. Star wondered how hearing that could turn her on so much.

For the rest of the morning, Scary showed her defensive moves as well as offensive ones. He told her that she should always fight back, kicking and screaming to get attention, if anyone went after her again. Then he wanted her to describe and show him exactly what had happened years ago to her. It had been so fast that she had not paid attention but as she thought about it, she started to remember.

"I was walking between the rows of cars. I was passing next to a van and a truck when the door to the van opened. Someone inside grabbed me around the waist with one arm, while his hand covered my mouth, stopping me from screaming. He pulled me inside while someone else next to him shut the door. While he held me, the other guy tied my arms behind my back and then my ankles. They put some kind of cloth in my mouth to stop me from yelling. Then they waited. After a little while, they did the same thing to another girl who was at the concert."

"From now on, never park or walk next to a van with a side door. They were there probably under orders if they took someone else also. Think of it like stocking inventory. Biting a hand over your mouth would help. It may even cause your attacker to scream, attracting attention," he said moving behind her to wrap one arm around her. "From here, you lift your leg and stomp down as hard as you can with your foot onto his. If he is not wearing steel-toed shoes, you could break his toes. Also aim for the top of his foot, crushing the arching bone downward. Another thing is to entirely limp, falling to the ground. They want you upright so they can carry you."

He then had her preform those actions over and over, even the toe stomp since his boots _did_ have steel in them. She started to think that he liked the idea of not letting her go when she was unable to get free a couple of times. By the time he said they were going to break for lunch, she felt like she needed a nap more than food.

"After lunch, you will have to escape me by running through the woods," he said as they headed to the house.

"That's not fair, I've seen you run," she said smacking his arm playfully.

"Then you will have to get better," he stated, his eyes seeming to shine as he took his mask off.

"So, will I get a reward if I escape you and punished if I don't?" she asked, making his head turn quickly towards her.

"Depends," he said turning to look back at the path, but she saw the smirk appear, "on what I feel like when I catch you."


	38. Hiding From Scary

**Song: _Lady In Black_ by Uriah Heep**

* * *

"This is _so_ unfair," Star mumbled as she ran down the path, not exactly sure where she was. It had not been as traveled so there was a lot of underbrush that kept smacking on her legs as she ran, but she did not stop. She was determined that this time _she would win_. The sun was already setting, so the further into the woods she looked, the more shady area there were. There was just enough light to see by, so she kept going.

Scary had given her a five minute head start, unlike all of the other times when she had only gotten three, since this was going to be the last search of the day. All of the other times that he had won, when he had easily caught her. She could feel his smugness seeping through his face mask as he would then scolded her for getting caught again...and again...and again...

Looking off to her right, she saw a larger tree not too far into the woods. That's what she needed. She continued to run up the path for a few more feet before slowing down and stopping. Remembering what she had read in a book, she looked down behind her and saw her footsteps. Carefully but quickly, she began to trace back over her steps, hoping that this was going to work. Seeing a low lying limb close enough to the path, she then jumped for it, grabbing hold. Using her legs to swing, she landed a few feet away from where her last track was located.

Star then began to take careful steps on top of small fallen limbs, hoping to use them to hide her tracks. She picked up a small branch with leaves to use in a moment. Glancing back to the path, then following it in the direction she had come from, she looked for any sign of Scary. Of course she didn't hear anything. She hadn't during the rest of the entire day either. He had just suddenly been standing right next to her, or landing on the ground in front of her from where he had jumped from a tree. The first time he had done that to her, she had called him a monkey, which had gotten her picked up and held upside down as he tickled her belly. So, even though she had yet to win a single time, she had still had fun today. It was the most intense game of hide-and-seek ever.

Finally making her way to the tree, Star grabbed the lowest limb to use for climbing up. Once her feet were off of the ground, she carefully dropped the limb she had carried directly on top of where she had just been standing, using it to hide her footprints. Star then scrambled up, going at least twice as high as she would really like, but there was a split in the trunk that seemed to be a perfect spot to sit atop as a hiding place. There were still a lot of leaves on the limbs just below the split, so it gave good coverage. Plus with the darkness of night falling, maybe Scary would not be able to see her with the dark clothing she was wearing.

Sitting down into the crevice, her legs pressing onto the tree to keep her from falling, she tried to calm her breathing as she listened for any sound. As the minutes began to go by, she started to wonder where Scary was. It had never taken him this long to catch her before. Leaning over carefully and slowly, she looked down toward the path, hoping to see anything. The light had gotten dimmer, but she didn't move. He would be following her trail, so she needed to keep her eyes on the lookout.

After a few more minutes, something off to the side of the path caught her attention. There was a dark shadow moving on the other side of the path than where the tree she had climbed was. It was moving very slowly, and if she had not been looking for it, she probably would not have noticed it. The shadow passed from tree to tree, using them to hide behind. As it continued down the path, she realized that Scary was following her footsteps, just like she had hoped he would.

When he finally reached the spot where she had stopped moving forward, he finally stepped out of the shadows and onto the path itself. Bending down, he inspected the ground, searching the wooded area around her final step, searching for the next one, but she knew that there was nothing for him to find there. Scary then started to move back on the path, inspecting the previous steps she had taken, the ones where she had double stepped to disguise her direction.

Scary then made it to the area where she had jumped to the limb. After inspecting a few more steps back, he moved forward again. He was figuring out what she had done. His head came up as he looked around in all directions. Touching the limb she had used to swing from, the only one in that area which she could have done so, he moved in her direction. Slowly scanning the ground, Scary was looking for her footprints. She hoped that she had done a good job.

He continued slowly but surely towards the tree she was up. Shrinking down as much as she could, she covered her face with her arm, trying to hide any light skin with the black sleeve, leaving only her eyes visible. Even with the dimming light, she could see his head come up and look towards her. But he never said anything. Was she hidden enough along with the darkness to actually win this time? His head dropped back down, moving to the ground again as he started to move again. He circled the tree, probably trying to see if her tracks were on the other side, but they weren't. She hadn't thought that she had left any from the limb to the tree, but Scary seemed to have followed some kind of trail.

Watching him circle the tree a second time, the scene from _Jaws_ came back to her, a shark circling a boat. That was exactly what she felt like watching him as he searched, probably growing more and more frustrated at not having found her yet. Scary even looked right up at her as he rounded her perch, not seeing her from any angle it seemed. _You're going to need a bigger tree,_ she thought.

When he started to head off in the original direction she had been running on the path, she couldn't help but smile wide. Soon she could barely see his outline not too far away as he continued to search. After a minute, he must not have been happy with his findings, because he made his way back to the base of her tree. He was standing directly under her, so she didn't dare lean over to see what he was doing. If he attempted to climb it, he would make noise in doing so, right? Scary couldn't be _that_ sneaky?

The woods were eerily quiet as she sat and waited. How long would he keep searching for her before giving up? The sun was going down quick and in a little while, she may not be able to see well enough to get down without his help. But at least she could say that she had won, at least once.

"Star," she suddenly heard Scary's voice quietly say. He drew out her name for a few seconds, somehow giving her the creeps. "I know that you can hear me."

If he was speaking to her, giving away _his_ position, then the game was almost over.

"I like how you backtracked your steps, that was very good," she heard as his shape began to wander around the area, still searching. "But I know that you are close."

Star didn't move, not a foot, not a finger, and even closed her eyes, worried that if she looked down at him, she would make eye contact. He _had_ to be the type that could focus in on anyone watching him.

"Come on out, Star," she heard from the further away than he had been a moment ago.

Getting only a little peek, she saw that he was moving away from her tree. He was still looking up, knowing that she could climb, but somehow he had not seen her up here. Did he think she wouldn't climb this high, or was she that well-hidden? A combination of both? It didn't matter, she was going to win this one, she decided.

She watched as he continued to move around, eventually heading to the other side of the path. He must not have liked what he didn't find because he did not stay over there for long. For at least ten minutes, Star watched as Scary search the general area around her tree. Suddenly, she heard what she recognized as a couple of curse words spoken in Russian.

"Fine, you win this one, Star," Scary said in a much louder voice, making sure that she would be able to hear him wherever she was.

When he finally said those words, she let out a deep breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"That's _all_ you had to say, Scary," she told him with a loud voice, making sure to add as much sarcasm as she could. Leaning over so that she could look down at him, she could tell that he was looking up at her.

"That was a well-chosen hiding place. I've looked up there a couple of times and saw no sign of you," Scary said starting to circle the tree while watching her. "There is plenty of coverage to hide you."

"That was the point," she said starting to slowly move, carefully planting her feet and hands on the tree as she made her way down. She would hate to have spent all this time in Russia, two days before heading home, to kill herself by falling from a tree. It took her a bit longer to get down, but there was not a lot of light left. When she was at the final limb, she jumped the rest of the way down.

"Show me exactly what you did after leaving the path," Scary asked moving back to the swinging limb. She walked over to join him.

"From here, I landed on that larger limb," she said pointing at the item on the ground.

"When you landed, with the ground still being soft from the rain and snow, it pushed into the mud because of your weight. I saw that," he said bending down to show her. She could see the muddy ground squishing up the sides of the limb. That was how he knew she was at least in this area.

"From here, I walked on other limbs, or groups of leaves until I got to the tree," she said moving along the trail she had used. "When I got to the tree, after jumping up, I dropped this over my tracks."

Star then picked up the limb which had covered her final tracks. Scary dropped his head while shaking it with more curses.

"I should have known," he grumbled before quickly reaching over and grabbing her around the waist. She let out a loud squeal as he lifted her up, tossing her onto his right shoulder, starting to march towards the trail.

"Scary!" she said smacking him playfully on the back, trying to get his attention, but he just kept moving through the dark woods. "You know, I'm starting to think that you are a _sore loser_."

"I never said that _I_ lost," Scary said as she felt his left hand start to rub the length of her leg, upwards until it reached her round bottom, which he then gave a carefully pressured smack to.

"Hey!" shocked that he would think to do something like that. Star could tell that it had not meant to be mean, he had been frisky a couple of times during the day, but the training always came first. "Can I at least walk back?"

"Do you know how to get back to the house from here?" he asked as his right hand, which was supporting her from falling, began to knead into the back of her thigh.

"You could just tell me which way to go, you know," she pointed out as she rested her hands on the belt around his waist, more for fun than necessity. "I feel like a prize being carried away by a caveman."

"A prize?" she heard him say with way too much enjoyment in his voice.

"The key word was _caveman_ in that sentence, Scary!" Star said jerking on his belt by slightly pulling it upwards.

That _definitely_ got his attention!

Scary's metal arm was suddenly on her back as he bent forward, his right hand grasping hard on her legs. With a sweeping motion, she found herself on her back lying on the path, Scary's firm body directly above her. Her arms had grabbed around his neck, careful of his mask, as she felt the weightlessness of his maneuver. His legs were on the outside of her thighs, while his lower legs crossed over her own, letting him rest on top of her while very effectively pinning her lower body down.

"I don't think that a caveman would need to wait until reaching the house," he practically growled down at her, his hands planted on each side of her head. Star felt the cold, partly moist ground under her, but it was the warm, hard object above her that had all of her attention. She was glad that her braid was shoved under the wool cap. At least her hair wouldn't have dirt in it, but then again, they could always shower again. She smiled at the thought of what else they could do in the water. Seeing her expression, Scary asked her, "So you agree then?"

"I wasn't smiling at _that_ , Scary," she said running her hands down his vest until she finally found where his pants started. Pulling them outward a bit, she was able to get just enough space between them and him so that her hand could just slip inside, watching carefully as his eyes widened just a bit, his pupils starting to blow out with anticipation. While her hand traveled down, his eyes slowly closed, a low moan escaping from his hidden lips. Finally her hand was able to envelop his hard shaft, which she had felt as soon as he had trapped her there. Moving her hand in a circular motion over him, she teased, "That must be painful. Need some help, Scary?"

"If you don't stop that right now, you are going to see how much of a caveman I am, Star," he said lowering himself with his arms so that his chest was now touching hers.

"What? Worried about the squirrels watching?" she said wrapping her fingers around him, giving a slight tug.

He gave the sexiest growl at the deed, looking down at her.

Bringing his masked face close to her ear so that he could whisper into it, "Just figured that the ground might be rough on your back."

"Why would you think _I_ was going to be the one on the bottom?" she teased before moving her head slightly so that she could take his earlobe into her mouth, sucking at it, causing him to grind his hips down, pinning her hand between the two of them. Yanking smoothly on his shaft a couple of times, Star finally asked, "So, caveman, are you going to let me walk home?"

"Darlin', you keep doing that and you can do whatever you want," he said with a sexy Yankee accented drawl as his masked face tried to nuzzle the side of her neck. Star could feel his warm breath penetrating the porous material as he held himself up just enough so that his body didn't interfere with her hand's movements.

"Does that mean you'll let me shoot the sniper gun some more tomorrow?" she asked figuring that she may as well get a bit of extra fun out of his statement.

"Every last bullet is yours," he growled as his hips ground down, trapping her hand around him so she could not let go. "But, I expect to continue _this_ conversation once we are back inside the house."

"I _know_ ," she said leaning up to kiss his mask. It was a strange sensation to do so, knowing how her own perception of it had changed so dramatically over the past days.

And in two days, all of this would be over, and he would be taking her home, or at least to people who could help her get home.

Scary then moved just enough so that she could remove her hand, which she was slightly disappointed in. She had actually expected him to take her up on the offer of woods sex. Maybe it was the chill in the air that had changed his mind. He shifted so that he could stand, before offering his hand to help her up. As least this time, when she was standing, she didn't get tossed back over his shoulder.

"Come on," he said taking her hand in his, leading her down the darkened path towards the house.

The sun had finally gone down and with the trees canopy covering the path, she couldn't really see anything around them more than a few feet away. It seemed to take a long time to get back to the house, but Scary led her without wavering in his direction. The last run she had taken had been much further into the woods than she had originally suspected it had been. Reaching a spot where they could see the edge of the woods, Scary stopped her before they got too close to the clearing. He moved her behind a large tree trunk, out of view of the house.

"I'm going to go do a check, just to be safe. Stay here, keep quiet, and don't move," he said pointing a finger at her, close to her face, making her feel like a child being ordered by a parent.

So, deciding to get back at him, she opened her mouth and took his finger into her mouth, sucking down hard on it without biting. Star heard the moan escape his lips as his eyes closed. A second later, she felt her back pushed up against the tree, Scary's body once again pinning her in place. He had pulled his finger from her mouth as he moved, pressing his hands on the tree at each side of her head.

"That was very naughty," he said trying to sound angry, but the roughness of his voice only made her stomach flutter with anticipation.

"Well, I had a finger in my face, what did you expect?" she asked playfully.

Scary then moved his arms from next to her head, running them down her arms until he reached her wrists. Taking a hold of them, he stretched her arms outward, then slowly began to move them upward so that they eventually stopped above her head. Before she could really figure out what was happening, she felt both of her wrists held together by his cool metal hand, pinned to the tree trunk. She had been trapped similar to this many times, but with Scary standing in front of her, she found her body aching for him to continue whatever it was he had planned.

"So, you like my fingers?" he asked holding up his hand in front of her face for her to see, then running a single finger over her cheek over to her lips, plucking at her bottom one.

"Maybe," she taunted as she struggled her arms just a bit, still not scared for some reason, but becoming turned on, which worried her slightly. There was a strange trust that she had with Scary, where she knew if she asked, he would stop. She'd never had that before. But, that was _not_ what she wanted right now.

Scary then ran his flesh hand down the front of her shirt, until it came to the top of her own pants, mimicking the gesture that she had used on him a little while ago. Hooking his thumb on the hem of her pants, he pulled them outward, before twisting his hand so that he could slip it inside. Feeling his warm flesh on her lower belly, her body jerked at the touch, her breath taking a sharp intake against her will, so that as he heard it, he _knew_ that he was the who had caused it.

"So, I will ask again. Do you like my fingers, little Star?" Scary asked leaning his masked face forward against the side of hers, causing her head to turn into her right arm, as he pressed firmly against her entire body. Feeling his body's heat as she was trapped against him, thrilled Star to her core.

As his fingers had stopped too high for her naughty need of them, she barely managed to pant out, "Yes, Scary," as she wished he would just get it over and touch her.

Hearing her answer, Scary finally felt his hand begin to travel down even further, his fingers finding the folds of her skin already slick, as he rubbed a single finger over her lips. Her breath began to catch in her throat, her legs suddenly coming together slightly, as if they were trying to stop him. But she then felt one of his own legs wedged between her two, preventing her from stopping his exploration. He had never touched her for so long like this before with his fingers, usually waiting till she was almost to the tipping point before doing so.

As his hand traveled even further down, she found herself pushing her hips outward, now making sure that Scary was able to touch anywhere he wanted. When he finally slipped a single finger inside of her, she couldn't hold it in any longer, as a scandalous moan loudly sounded in the silent woods.

"Tell me you like my fingers, Star," Scary heavily breathed into her ear, where his head still rested against her. He then pumped his finger, causing her breath to catch even more.

"I like your fingers, Scary," she sinfully panted, wanting even more as she struggled a little against his metal grip, but she would be so disappointed if he released her. With those words, he then began to move his finger faster, while his thumb began to rub her clit in little circles, causing her body to gyrate with the motion. As she felt him slip a second finger inside, she cried out in pleasure.

Faster and harder his fingers worked her body into a frenzy. As her hips began to pump towards his hand, with each thrust causing a sultry heat to rise through her entire body, Star had to force herself to keep breathing, not wanting anything in her body but Scary's fingers right then. All day she had imagined Scary touching her, and she was finding it as obscene as she had hoped. In no time, Star's cries became almost constant as her body reached almost to climax.

"Scream for me, Star. Show me that you like my fingers and scream my name," Scary growled angrily into her ear as his chest pressed hard into hers, making sure that she could not escape what was about to happen. Her fingers dug into her palms as she tried to stop the volatile tide, but she didn't really want to, and her body knew it. As his thumb press firmly in just the right spot, his fingers taking a long, last deep thrust into her, Star knew it was over.

"Scary!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as he continued to pump, harder and harder as she orgasmed, her body clutching onto his fingers, and quivering with spastic shakes that left her legs weak. They could hear his name echo in the silence of the woods. Only Scary's body pressing her against the tree kept her from falling to the ground from the hot bliss of release. They stayed like that for a moment, his fingers finally stopping and his hand retreating from her body, making her rapidly miss its loss.

When Scary released her arms, she barely had enough strength to keep them from falling limp, but she didn't want to show such weakness to him. That was when Scary took a step back and she felt his arms wrapping around her body, picking her up to hold her, like he had done before. Star wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against the firm metal of his arm, smiling and enjoying the orgasmic feeling still flowing through her. Scary then began to walk towards the house before speaking.

"There's no reason to do a sweep of the area now. Anyone nearby knows we are here now," he smugly informed her.

"Your fault…not mine!" she pointed out with a smile before kissing the side of his mask. " _You're_ the one who likes to have his _name_ screamed!"


	39. Scary Uses His Words...For Far Too Long

**Song: _You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet_ by Bachman Turner Overdrive**

* * *

As he dried off the dinner plate that Star handed him after finishing washing it, he could not keep himself from glancing down at Star. She had told him when they had made it inside that after dinner they would continue their 'conversation' from outside. But he felt that she was intentionally working on the task before her as slowly as she possibly could. He was almost sure that she was stalling, and with the way she was humming to the song playing in the background, her body seductively swaying to the beat, there was no other possibility.

To help him from just picking her up and taking her into the bedroom like he so wanted to do, he kept thinking back to how well she had finally managed to successfully hide from him on the final pursuit. He had not told her about doing the backtracking skill so he was curious as to where she had gotten that idea. Then she had finally figured out to hide her tracks with the resources in the woods. He had actually expected her to figure that one out earlier, so he could use that one against her. If she had not thought of it today, he was planning on telling her about it tomorrow. During their last day together.

Now, he had agreed to allow her to play sniper once again, but not that it mattered since he had planned on more weapons training anyways. But as she had touched him, he would have agreed to anything as long as she prolonged the delightful sensations that she kept bringing out in him. He hated the fact that he had not acted on the feelings sooner instead of repressing them, but he knew that there was a very good chance that Star may not have consented to being with him the way she did. But he could tell that she was having just as much…fun…by being together as he was having.

But tomorrow, he had also planned on hand-to-hand training. That was going to be the most difficult part. Not because he didn't think that Star could do it, but because it would mean that they would be touching each other all over, for hours. He had never had a problem with other soldiers, but she was no solider. She was his…Star.

The playful, happy, teasing female that he had grown so protective of.

The one who he just realized had been washing the _exact_ same pot for a couple of minutes now as he dwelt in his own thoughts.

Throwing the drying rag down onto the countertop, he crossed his arms as he turned to stare down at her as she finally placed the pot under the running water to rinse it off.

"Something bugging you, Scary?" she casually asked holding it out now for him to take, which he didn't even bother looking at.

"You are moving inefficiently," he firmly informed her, receiving in reply a fake look of innocence.

"I have _no idea_ what you are talking about," she replied, placing the pot on the counter in front of him since he refused to take it.

Taking a step forward, his body began to push Star's body back so that she was being backed up against the stove. He could see her trying to hide a smile but she just could not.

"You washed that pot for much longer than was necessary," he said leaning his head forward towards hers.

"It's not my fault if you weren't concentrating on your job enough to notice. Did we get distracted with thinking about something?" she asked, crossing her arms defiantly. He was not about to point out that she may have been correct. Instead of saying anything, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting Star up off of the floor, tossing her over his shoulder just like he had just a few short hours ago. "So we are back to _caveman_ instead of using our _big boy words_?"

Hearing Star teasing him like that made him divert from the bedroom which had been his original destinations so that instead they ended up at the table. Pulling out one of the dinner chairs, he dragged it over so that it was in the open den area behind the couch. Taking Star carefully off of his shoulder, he set her down on the floor in front of it before pressing her shoulders down so that she sat.

"You want some _big boy words_?" he asked her, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a deep breath.

Then he started talking.

* * *

Star wasn't exactly sure how long that she had been sitting there while Scary paced back and forth, listing off _every single thing_ that she had done wrong today. How could he remember _everything_? He hadn't made a list. She had stopped really listening after he decided to point out the one time she had tripped over a root and landed face first in the dirt. He had already stood over her at the time, glaring down with disappointment at the clumsy act.

Now, he was going on about erasing footprints, or her trail in general, and how to accomplish that on different types of surfaces, ones that they did not have access to here. How to avoid water puddles on concrete, removing shoes if they left tracks, how grass will stay bent if walked on. Well, she did this to herself by teasing him about 'big boy words'. She had tried to stand twice, each time with her receiving a silver hand to the shoulder to push her back down.

But now, she was tired of listening to him. She needed a plan…otherwise he may keep going until bed time. And not the good bed time that both of them were actually wanting. She considered her limited options. He needed to be distracted from his talk and there was only one thing that ever did that.

Star then casually yawned as she lifted her left foot to rest on her right leg. After a moment, giving him time to not care about the movement, she then slipped the socks off, exposing her bare foot. They had been so hungry by the time they had gotten into the house, they had decided to eat before changing since the house had grown cold during the day without the fire being kept up. But now, it was warm and nice, so Star hoped that it took Scary a few articles of clothing to figure out what she was doing.

Gently putting that foot back down, Star slowly repeated the maneuver with her right foot. Waiting a few moments after that foot was back on the floor, she then carefully slipped an arm inside of the first shirt she was wearing. She then did the same with the other and pushed the first shirt up off of her, letting it fall on the floor next to the chair. Scary's eyes darted to the item for a second before he continued talking about alleyways being beneficial _and_ a hindrance when trying to escape.

Moving both hands underneath the overly large male shirt, it hid her working on the belt holding the pants up, unbuckling them as quietly as she could without him noticing. She pulled a bit of excess belt back through to the loops to loosen the waist. She still wasn't paying attention to him as she carefully lifted herself only an inch off of the chair using one hand, which he didn't try and stop her from doing. With the other she slipped her thumb on the waist of the pants and boxers and began to slowly pull them down as Scary continued to pace back and forth, counting something off on his fingers. She wasn't even bothering to listen anymore.

Using her feet, mostly her toes, she grabbed the material of the pants leg's cuffs. They slowly began to be pulled downward, exposing her thighs, then knees before pooling around her lower legs. Star had figured that by now Scary would have noticed, but he was still yacking away while glancing out the front door's window, so she decided to finish what she started. With a lot less care, Star pushed the pants away from her feet as she lifted the shirt right over her head. Balling it up, she then tossed it right at Scary's head, but he must have sensed the movement as he caught it just before impacting.

Watching as a scowl appeared on his face as he then turned towards her, Star smiled as the look of understanding then encroached his face. She was now sitting on the chair wearing nothing at all.

"You were saying?" Star then said crossing her arms underneath her breasts, using her arms to lift them up and resting on top of them.

Scary then stopped speaking, finally, as he stared down at her naked form. She could only grin knowing what was probably running through his mind. After how he had made her feel in the woods, she intended to do the same for him.

"On the other hand, that last escape attempt was much better," Scary told her, coming to stand right in front of her. Getting another idea, Star then stood up and this time he didn't try to stop her. Using her hands on his shoulders, she guided him so that he was now standing at the kitchen chair. Reaching down, she began to unclasp the buckle holding his pants on. With a firm pull using both hands, she was able to get them and his underwear down. When they reached his knees, she then put her hands on his shoulders, pressing him down to sit in the chair as she had been.

" _Really_? So after all of the _complaining_ that you've been doing, there was _something_ I did that you _liked_?" Star asked in double innuendo, reaching up and starting to work on the buckles on the leather vest.

Scary just sat there staring at her breasts directly in his line of vision as she worked her fingers to free his chest.

"Yes, there were a few things that you did which I approved of," he finally managed to get out by the time she hand gotten to the last one.

Stretching up in a very dramatic move, Star then grabbed the vest and pulled it off of him, Scary helping the movement along without complaint. Except for his socks, undershirt and how his pants were pooled around his lower legs, she had already gotten him mostly naked.

" _A few things_ that you approved of? Do tell," Star stated as she then dropped to her knees before him. Lifting his feet one at a time, she made quick work of removing his socks before removing the pants from his legs.

* * *

"Doing the back-tracking with your footprints was a very good idea," he praised her as he watched her undress him. The feeling of her slim, gentle hands on his legs as she worked to make him as naked as she already was helped to quickly arouse him. There was no way to hide his hardening shaft, not that he really wanted to. Star then began to slide her hands up his legs.

"You liked that? I read it in a book once," she informed him as her hands made it to his upper thighs. He had hoped for her to touch him, but instead her fingers played with the edges of his shirt, the last remaining article of clothing. Since she seemed to stop there and be waiting for him, he continued.

"I also liked how you used the limb to jump, and then used the debris on the ground to walk on," he told her. After saying that, Star then began to lift up on his shirt, rubbing her bare breasts on his legs as she leaned forward enough to get the item over his head.

"It would have worked better if the ground had not been wet," she then lifted it off, dropping it somewhere he didn't care to see as he stared at her kneeling form.

"Using the limb to cover your final steps was a very good idea," he praised as her hands once again made their way to his legs.

"I'm glad that you liked that," she said spreading his knees apart.

"But the fact that you hid in the tree and I couldn't find you was the best move you did all day," he smiled down at her to which she began to move forward.

"You mean when I _won_?" she asked before gently blowing air on his now fully erect shaft, mere inches away from her mouth.

"Yes, when _you_ won," he conceded, hoping it was the right words, which he knew they were when Star gazed up at him, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue over his tip. At that first touch, he just closed his eyes and let the feeling that came over his body happen, definitely _not_ subduing it this time. Her lips then sucked on him, pulling his member fully into her mouth as her tongue glided all around him, swishing quickly around. He gripped hard onto the seat of the chair as her head moved back and forth between his legs. Then her hand began to fondle him from underneath, giving just the right pressure as she groped his balls.

For the next couple of minutes, he could only sit there enjoying the hedonism that Star was causing his entire body to have. When he finally felt her lips leave him, he looked down at her, seeing her starting to stand up as her hands touched his knees to push his legs closed. She then moved so that her own legs were parted as she then sat down to straddle him, sitting on his lap. She then forced her chest against his as she lifted herself some and used his body as support as her hips moved forward. Without waiting, Star then grabbed a hold of him, using her hand to guide him as she slid her body down his, so that she was then encasing his member inside of her. A loud moan escaped his lips at the overpowering sensation.

"Is there _anything else_ that I do that you _approve_ of?" she coyly asked him whispering into his ear. That was when he noticed that her body had yet to begin any type of movement, waiting for him to respond.

"Yes, there is definitely _one_ thing I approve of," he said reaching up with his left and to grasp at the back of her neck, pulling her in for a hard kiss. That was all it took for her body to begin its gyrations on top of him, up and down, back and forth, each movement pulling more moans from him.

After only a little while, he couldn't stand it anymore. Wrapping an arm around her waist and putting another under her round cheeks, he stood up from the chair, not allowing her body to leave his. Star enfolded her legs around his own waist to hold herself in place. Taking the few steps necessary to enter the bedroom, he bent over the bed so that Star was now lying on her back with him on top of her.

"I thought that you were enjoying the chair?" she asked before taking rough kissing bites of his neck.

"Need more," he said as he began to pound away at her with his hips, pressing her hard into the bed, Star crying out erotically with each thrust he gave her. He found that she responded more to the long deep ones by clawing her nails into his lower back each time, trying to pull him even further in.

His mind suddenly went to a few days from now when he was at the base and what would happen if the doctors examined him after the mission. There would be no way to explain away any marks that she would leave on him, even if he did enjoy the feeling and wanted the marks there. So he reached back, one hand at a time, taking her wrists into his fists and pinning them down onto the mattress above her head.

"Scary?" she calmly asked between moans.

"I can't have marks, doll, or they'll know," he told her, giving her a gentle kiss hoping that it was not troubling for her to have him hold her the way that he was. It was similar to how what he had done at the tree earlier and she had not complained.

"Alright," she said returning the kiss. "But you better not let go if you keep doing that move..."

As he continued to thrust, he used his fists as support as he bent down and began to suck at one of her breasts. After making sure the nipple was firm and hard, he then moved over to the other, repeating the enjoyable task. Star's moaning told him that it was the right thing to do.

Minutes later, between his biting her breasts and neck, making sure to leave his own marks, he could feel her body building tight under his. He had held off on his own release for a long as he could, wanting to make sure that he pleasured her correctly, and with the change in her bodily rhythms, he knew that he was doing it right. Changing his grip so both of her wrists were together with his right hand, he carefully reached down between her legs and began to rub her swollen lips.

With each firm thrust, he made sure to press a bit firmer at the spot that he had found elicited the screams from her. Star's breathing became quicker, her own hips movements a bit harder into his, while at the same time rotating a bit so his fingers touched just the right spot.

"This is for being such a good student today Star," he said giving her the final pushing movement that he knew would tip her over the edge. With her scream of fulfilled desire echoing in the room, his face lit up at seeing her eyes closed, her head thrown back because of what he had caused. Seeing Star like that was all it took for him to finally be able to release his own.

* * *

Star stood in the shower letting the warm water rinse away the different layers of sweat, and other stuff, that coated her body. It had taken her a while before she could stand up from the bed where Scary was lying next to her, his warm nakedness being the only thing keeping the cold out. She had almost hated to get up and shower, but she liked the idea of lying clean in the bed with Scary next to her. He had said that he wanted to secure the house, so he had headed into the den while she headed to the bathroom.

Expecting him to show up in the shower while she had been inside, Star had been slightly disappointed when she was ready to get out and he had not appeared. Opening up the shower curtain, she was startled to find Scary standing right next to the tub, letting out a partial scream.

"Damn it, Bates," she chastised, smacking him on his bare chest with her palm.

"Bates?" he asked curious at the name he obviously didn't recognize.

"The name of a serial killer from a movie," she told him as she took the towel he had in his hand held out of her. He had not bothered to put on clothes, and was standing there completely naked, looking marvelous and not a care in the world.

" _Why_ did you watch so many movies about _bad things_ happening?" he asked, watching her very intently as she dried her body off.

"Because _scary_ movies are fun to watch," she told him, emphasizing his nickname, but she saw the doubt on his face at the answer. "There's something exciting about being suddenly scared when the bad guy unexpectedly appears on the screen."

He seemed to consider her words for a moment as she stepped out of the tub, ending up right next to him. She began to towel dry her hair as Scary just stood there lost in his own thoughts. Was he worried about something that she had said?

"You know that I'm not scared of you anymore, right, Scary?" she asked, smiling while reaching up and touching the smooth side of his face. He had shaved again this morning, guessing that it felt better to be clean shaven while he wore the face mask.

"What about if I told you that you needed to be? That I needed you to be scared of me? Could you do it?" he asked her with worry written all over his face. She felt her own brows shift and pinch up at the strange request.

"Do you mean tomorrow, when we do the fighting stuff you were talking about doing?" she asked wondering if that was what he meant.

"No, I…" he started but then dropped off.

She could tell that he didn't really want to discuss whatever was bothering him. He still had many secrets and this may be another one of them.

So, instead she leaned up and gave him a simple kiss on the lips.

"How about if I promise to try and do whatever you need me to do? Would that work?" she offered as a solution so that this would not bother him all night.

"Maybe," he said considering her suggestion.

"Then I will. Now, how about getting cleaned up, Stinky, it's bed time," she said pointing at the shower behind her as she took a step forward.

"Stinky?" he said as she then tried to get past him.

But he wrapped his arm around her waist, stopping all forward motion.

"Your hearing must be bad. I said Scary," she tried to fib to him before she was suddenly pressed up against the bathroom's open door, his naked body feeling very warm against her. She had wrapped the towel around her, using both hands to try and hold it in place as he pressed his chest against hers.

"I don't think so, Star," he was smirking down at her, his gentle lips upturned and a devious gleam in his shiny blue eyes. Her knees started to go weak with just looking at him like that. How could someone like that be such an effective killer? She had always liked the bad boys, but this was _way beyond_ crazy.

"If I did say that, and I'm not admitting to doing it, what are you going to do about it?" she smugly asked, goading him on just for fun.

"I'm thinking," he softly said, "about," then leaning towards her ear, "having you," brushing his lips against her ear, "sit on the bed," rubbing his cheek against hers, "with me between your legs," his lips pulling seductively at her earlobe, "while you," his chest pressing harder, "brush my hair."

"What!?" Star exclaimed before releasing the towel to smack at his chest while he laughed at her.

"You have _such_ a _dirty mind_ , Star. Has anyone ever _told_ you _that_ before?" he asked with a devious grin, backing up a step towards the shower, turning it on, and disappearing behind the curtain.


	40. Star Learns of Scary's Secret

**Song: _Belladonna_ by U.F.O.**

* * *

**Day Nine  
**

* * *

He knew that he shouldn't be upset that Star was not able to free herself from the hold that he had on her. None of his previous targets had ever been able to do it, and they were in much better physical condition than she was. No one was strong enough to break the grasping hold on their neck that he could do.

But he needed _Star_ to be able to, in case they sent him out after her. There was also the possibility that a kill order for her would be from a distance, giving her no opportunity to try and stop him. As he thought of that, a sinking feeling happened in his gut.

"Enough," he coldly said dropping his arm down and not being able stand looking at himself almost choking her anymore. He would just have to figure out some other way for her to be able to protect herself up close from him.

"Finally," Star said dropping down onto the grass so that she was lying on her back. "This sucks!"

The sun had decided to come out even though it was not warming up very much. The remaining snow was now only found in the shady areas of the house and trees. They had been working on her fighting skills since coming out after breakfast. For the most part, Star was able to get out of simple holds that any normal attacker would use on her after some instruction and training. But when it came to the specialty move he employed, she would be dead.

"Can we go eat now?" she asked looking up at him as he tried to figure out what to do with her. She needed to be able to stop him, especially if he could not stop himself. Seeing the smile on her face, knowing that when she mentioned food he usually gave in, irritated him only because she had no real idea as to why he was making her do this, over and over.

"Yes, we can go eat, but afterwards you will go again," he informed her, earning an irritating groan from her as she rolled over and stood up.

"Why are you so worried about this?" she sounded exasperated as she started to walk towards the back door. He had only taken two steps to follow her when Star suddenly stopped. Turning to look at him, her eyes narrowed as they pierced him. Her voice was very firm as she then repeated, "Why _are_ you so worried about this?"

"You need to be able to protect yourself," he simply said, hoping that would satisfy her. But as she took a step back towards him, he knew that it didn't work.

"No. There is something else. The stuff we did earlier, I get. But you've been doing your Darth Vader neck chokey thingy," she said holding out her hand to imitate the move, "for almost as long as everything else that we did. Why? That's not what a normal…"

When she suddenly stopped talking, he knew that she had probably figured it out. Looking down at her own suspended left arm held just like he would, her eyes began to dart between it and him. Dropping her arm down to her side, she blankly stared at him, her mind seeming to go through all the possibilities until he saw understanding on her face.

"Scary? Who else but _you_ would do that maneuver to kill someone?" she asked in a very monotone voice.

"There _could be_ someone else out there," he informed her, knowing that it was not _exactly_ a lie.

"You are worried that you will try to kill me? Aren't you?" she asked crossing her arms waiting for an answer.

"Yes," he finally gave in and said.

"Because if I mess up the story I'm supposed to tell, there is the chance they will send you to kill me?"

"Yes."

Star seemed to think about this for a few moments as he just quietly stood there trying to figure out how she could stop him. Both of them were wrapped up in their own thoughts, the same topic but from different angles.

"Wouldn't it be better to keep practicing the story than this? There is no way that I could ever stop you, Scary," she said trying to give him a small reassuring smile.

"We need to figure out a way how you could," he stared at her, putting a bit of anger in his voice so that she understood that this was important to him.

"I could always go for that ticklish spot near your bellybutton that I found last night," she grinned at him, not taking this conversation seriously.

Stomping over to the fire pit, he grabbed a piece of wood left from the other night that was about the same size as Star's neck. Moving so that he was standing right in front of her, Star's eyes were now wide and watching carefully, as he held up the wood in his left hand. Slowly and carefully, he began to crush it with his hand, the cracking sounds it made being like none other, his arm calibrating for more strength. Seconds later the entire piece snapped into two chucks, falling to the ground as Star watched.

" _That_ is what I'm trying to teach you to avoid," he coldly told her.

Star began to slowly shake her head as she continued to stare at the pieces. "There's _no way_ I could."

"We need to _find_ a way," he softly said, hoping that she now understood.

"Could you just _not_ kill me?" she asked looking up at him with a bit of sarcasm in her voice.

"It will not work," he started, but he was hesitant to fully explain the problem. To her, the answer would be that simple. Unfortunately, the real answer was not.

"Because HYDRA will know if I live?" she asked.

"No."

"Then what?"

"Because I will not hesitate to kill you."

At hearing that, he had expected Star to step away from him, but instead, she stood looking at him, not afraid at all of what he had just admitted to. Her brows then furrowed, like she was thinking, then she asked, "Why?"

That was a question that he did not want to answer. He had considered what it may mean to the both of them if anyone found out what she knew. It would be a death sentence for her, but what could they do to him? Torture him for something that he would not remember doing? What would be the point in that? Could they somehow make him remember and then use it against him? They had never done so in the past, but he doubted he'd ever had this type of situation before.

"Scary," Star started as she came over to stand next to him again. "You've held off on telling me something a couple of times over the past few days. Does it have anything to do with this?"

"Yes."

"So it's a big secret? Like anyone really knowing about you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And you think that telling me will get me killed?"

"Yes."

"But if you told me, I would understand the importance of what you want me to be able to do?"

"Yes," he said dropping his head at hearing that. He knew that she was right, that knowing he would not remember her would explain why she needed to be afraid of him in the future if she ever saw him again.

"So, looks like we have a Catch-22," she smiled and took his hand. She started to pull him towards the house after giving him yet another phrase that he did not understand.

"Where are we going?" he asked as they reached the steps.

"First we are going to eat, then we are going to sit and figure out how to deal with this," she said leading him into the warm house that already smelled of the dish Star had put into the oven earlier this morning before they went outside. She told him that since it was their last night, she was going to try and use up most of the best food that still remained. He had watched as she put a lot of seasonings on the large slab of beef with vegetables, and right now, he was looking forward to eating it later.

They put together a fairly large lunch with soup, sandwiches and more vegetables than he could to eat. But she also put out a large pile of Turkish Delights in the center of the table. He glanced and found that there were still plenty in the tin for later tonight, and maybe tomorrow, if they lasted that long. He had already determined they would _not_ go up in flames with the house.

After they had cleaned up, they both took different ends of the couch for the conversation that he was dreading to have with her. They had taken their shoes off but nothing else. He had dressed down, not in his full uniform for the training. On the hearth, he placed the napkin with the remaining pieces of sweets for him to eat as they talked, hoping that would help to quell his worries some.

"So let's start at, what may be, the beginning to see if what I'm understanding is correct, ok?" she asked him to which he only nodded. "No one outside of HYDRA _really_ knows that you exist, right?"

"As far as I know, yes," he told her.

"So just by me actually knowing about you, would mean that they would want me dead?"

"Yes."

"You are not worried about _you_ slipping up and telling someone about me, but you are worried that _I_ will accidentally tell someone about you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why wouldn't _you_ tell anyone about _me_? Because you are _that good_ at keeping a secret?" she asked him, causing a pathetic chuckle from him at knowing the answer.

"That is the problem. Star, I want to tell you something very important, but at the same time, I want to protect you from knowing."

* * *

Star stared at Scary sitting there with worry written all over his face at whatever this problem was. There had been a few times over the past few days when he had made a strange comment, or hesitated in telling her something, and she figured that they all dealt with this big secret of his.

"Just tell me, Scary," she calmly said but after a long few moments, he still wouldn't speak. "Are you worried that this secret will make me angry or scared?"

"I'm worried that it will get you killed," he told her not really giving her an answer to the question.

"How about if I give you a promise that I will never tell anyone what it is?"

"You can't make that promise."

"We are going to be here all night at this rate," she said dropping her head backwards onto the arm of the couch. Closing her eyes, she then thought about something else. "Is it as much of a problem as me knowing about your freezer thingy?"

Scary then groaned and dropped his head at her reminding him that she already knew about _that_ big secret. He had told her only because at that time he had planned on her being dead before he left here.

"Yes. You should not know of that either, and _especially_ the _existence_ of HYDRA, for that matter," he whined covering his face with his hands, rubbing them over it.

"Then there is no reason to _not_ tell me."

Scary sat quietly for about a minute before he finally spoke.

"I'm not going to ever remember being here with you after tomorrow."

Star knew that her face showed the questioning expression at hearing him say the strange sentence, which was nothing like what she had expected to hear. "What are you talking about? Of course you'll remember being here."

"No, I won't," he calmly said dropping his head. She sat for a minute in silence, giving him time to work up to being able to explain his strange answer. "HYDRA does not want me to be compromised after a mission by feeling guilt, or any other type of emotion. There is a special chair that wipes away all of my memories after a mission to prevent that from happening. Afterwards, they will put me into the cryostasis chamber until my next mission. That is the way it has always been."

"There's no way a chair can erase your memories," she told him not believing what she had heard, but Scary had no reason to lie to her.

"It sends electricity through my head. Trust me, I will not remember you, this house, or Kozlov by tomorrow night after giving my mission report," he plainly stated with no emotion in his voice. Trying to figure out if what he was saying was true, she flashed back to the other day while they were listening to records as it rained outside.

"Is this chair the reason that you don't remember if you killed the man, Kennedy, from the song? The one that we talked about the other day," she asked, but figuring she knew his answer.

"Yes. Any mission I have done requires a wipe. I may have been responsible, but I will never know," he told her.

Star turned to stare at the fire, absorbing this strange new information. The chair sounded like some kind of electroshock to her, which she had seen in movies before. Is it possible that some mad scientist had actually figured out a way to get rid of memories using it? If what Scary was saying was true, then yes, someone had. Considering all that she had learned about him...

She then had a question come to her that she was almost afraid to ask.

"Is it because of this chair that you know how to dance, but can't remember why?"

Scary then stood up and walked to behind the couch. She could tell that this part was bothering him much more, but she wanted a very specific answer now...

"Is that chair why you don't have _a name_?" she then bluntly asked him. That got a very sharp look from him. "Because they _took it_ from you!?"

"Stop asking questions like that!" he demanded of her, visibly becoming upset.

Star slumped back down onto the couch, turning to face the fire and away from where Scary was pacing behind her. She felt like she wanted to cry...

Thinking back to all the times over the past few days when he had done something strange, or asked about something that everyone should know about, the existence of this _chair_ and it having had been used on Scary made everything fall into place.

HYDRA had taken away _everything_ from Scary that was not necessary for him to be the assassin they wanted him to be.

Star started to realize exactly what was bothering Scary. Taking a could of calming breaths, she was able to speak.

"If I mess up the story, there is a chance that they will send you to kill me, after having been in this chair. And because of the chair, you will not remember me, and you will not hesitate to kill me. Either with your arm, or with the sniper rifle."

"Yes," she heard in a very low whispery response.

"Then I will just have to make sure that it never happens."

Scary then came to stand at the back of the couch, gripping the back with his hands to help support himself. She noticed a couple of times that he seemed to start to speak but then hesitated.

"Just say it," she finally said, as he then took a deep breath.

"There is only one thing that I can think of that may either give you a fighting chance, or it will possibly get you killed faster."

"Great, another Catch-22," she said turning a bit to look at him. "Go ahead. Let's hear the idea and then we'll worry about it."

"Do you remember the naughty word?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Furnace? What does that have to do with anything?" she asked really not understanding where this was going.

"I'm not going to go into detail, but there are certain words that have a special meaning to me, even with the chair. There is a chance that if you say some of them, that it will get my attention for long enough to give you a chance to escape, maybe even stop me from hurting you to find out why you know them. Or, hearing them may anger me and I will…" his voice dropped off.

She knew what he did not want to voice out loud.

"That sounds a bit strange. Why do they…wait, you have no idea _why_ they have meaning to you, because of the chair, right?" she asked.

"They were part of my training. I don't know why they were chosen, but they are _always_ there," he told her staring into the fire. It now made her think of the word furnace again. Looking over at his silver hand, so close to her, she lifted her own hand to it, resting her hand on top of his. Star could see how much this was bothering him, trying to figure out how to keep her alive, especially from him.

"Alright, so…furnace. What else?" she calmly asked.

Scary stared down at their touching hands, giving a gentle squeeze before saying, "Longing."

She smiled at hearing that one, wondering if he had chosen it for a particular reason. When he moved his hand to take hers into it, she knew that he indeed had.

Scary then reached over with his other hand, touching the side of her face, and saying, "One."

Turning her body around and sitting up onto her knees, Star wrapped her arms around him, now fully understanding how hard this was for him. She had compromised him in the worst way possible, and now he was putting himself on the line to try and figure out how to help her, even if he never remembered her again. His arms then wrapped around her, holding her as tightly as he ever had for the next few minutes.

When he finally pulled back, she smiled, "Alright, let's go practice some more, Scary."

* * *

After heading back outside for more practice, he had decided that Star needed to be able to disarm anyone with a gun. They worked on the move for a short time before she was able to do the correct motions to take the gun from him. He had decided that it was pointless to have her work on the choke hold anymore. He knew that she was right, and he could only hope that it never came to where he did that to her for real.

Now, they were down at the lake for the last time, the sniper rifle set up for her to play with, because that's all it really was. He was not going to train her to be a sniper, but he would let her have some fun. They had also gone through the last of the bullets from the guard's ammo box as he put her through the paces once again. But he noticed a great improvement this afternoon, as well as a lot more concentration on what she was doing. Maybe explaining the Chair to her had been the motivation that Star needed to take all of this seriously.

"So, it looks like there are only about twenty bullets left," she said lying next to him on the tarp as she counted out the last of the bullets she had poured out of the box between them. "I want to watch you take some more shots."

"But you made me promise yesterday that you could do it," he smirked at her, remembering how her hand had felt gripping firmly around him as they lay on the dirt path.

"I'm altering the agreement. You know how to do that," she said bumping her body up against his left arm.

"Then how about I alter it to _my_ _benefit_?" he said getting an idea, wondering if Star would go along with it.

"What do you have in mind?" she grinned at him as if she would agree to anything he requested.

"I want you to strip down to nothing," he started, pausing to see her reaction, which was to widen her smile even more. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he whispered in her ear, "Then I want you to be lying under me as I take these last shots."

"You don't think that could throw off your concentration?" she coyly asked resting her head down on her arm as she looked at him.

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for, doll," he told her. "So, new agreement?"

With that, Star rolled onto her back without hesitation, lifting her foot in the air before reaching up to start unlacing her boots. Over the minute, he watched as she very slowly continued to remove all of her clothing, tossing them to the side of the tarp. Seeing her finish and lying there in the shade of the lowering sun, he wished that he could remember this entire mission.

"Hurry up there, Scary. It's not exactly warm out here," she said reaching over and pulling up the hem of his shirt. He took her hand into his, stopping her from the movement.

Changing from lying down next to her, he moved towards her feet, pulling her body slightly down the tarp away from the rifle to where he needed her to be.

Rolling her over so that she was now on her belly, he saw her turn her head to look at him, starting to realize what his intentions were. Unzipping his pants, he pulled them down only enough so that his hardening staff was free.

Spreading his legs so that hers were under him, he carefully lowered his body on top of hers, his cock finding the warm slit between her legs already wet. Supporting himself with one hand, he reached down between her legs with his flesh one, rubbing the spot he had learned so well over the past few days.

"Now," he said with his mouth close to her head, "You are in charge of loading the magazine, while I'm in charge of loading something else."

He gave her a firm rub as he said that, causing a pleasurable moan to escape Star. She then reached over and released the magazine from his rifle, earning another firm rub. With each bullet that Star snapped into place, he would slide his finger inside of her wet hole, sometimes causing her to almost loose her grip on the magazine.

"Too bad I can't take you on every mission," he growled in her ear as she got the last bullet the magazine would hold inside. Star gave the most beautiful whine at hearing that. As she placed the magazine at the entrance, the moment that she slapped it into place, he plunged his hard staff inside of her, Star's cry of pleasure spreading out over the calm lake.

Leaning down further onto her, he adjusted the rifle a bit to the side so that he was able to use the scope properly, bracing it against his shoulder. Star lay her head to the side so that she could partially look at him. He gave her temple a kiss as he then looked through the scope, choosing a target. A moment after pulling the trigger, he thrust a single fully-deep time into her, causing her to moan. Star's hands crushed the blanket nicely in them.

He pulled the trigger again, thrusting only one time again, causing another moan. He did not move unless he had just taken his shot, teasing her slowly over the next few minutes. He could feel her hips trying to move, to make him give her what she wanted, but he held his concentration on taking the shots, very slowly one at a time.

After reaching the last bullet, he wondered how far she would let him take this.

"Star, it's time for you to reload the magazine. Do you understand?" he asked her, to which she only nodded, so he leaned up just enough so she could move better. He could see her face and knew that she wanted him to do more, but he held motionless inside of her. Star then released her hold on the blanket and began to remove the magazine. This time, as she went to insert the first bullet, he moved his hand between their bodies. As she slid it into place, he finger pushed against her other tight hole, inches above where he was embedded in her. This touch elicited a much different moan, something more primal and needy from her. "Are you alright with this, with me touching you here, Star?"

"Yes, Scary," she heavily breathed out as she reached for another bullet. He noticed that she seemed to also be taking her time as he had done, teasing him the only way that she could. But he made sure that every bullet received a firm push into her hole.

After she was finished with the final bullet, he pulled himself out and positioned himself over her tight anal hole. Star knew what was about to happen as she continued to finish her job. The moment that she slapped the magazine into the rifle, he plunged himself inside of her. The gratifying erotic scream echoed through the trees.

Leaning over, he kissed her temple once again, listening to her heavily pants, and he hadn't even started yet. "If you want me to stop, just tell me. I will not hurt you, Star," he told her.

"Scary, I want you to _fuck_ me so hard that there is _no way_ that chair will ever make you _forget_ me," she bluntly told him, causing his cock to harden even more than it already had been. He knew that it was not a possibility, but he was not going to crush her hopes that it would not actually work.

Getting back into the firing position, he continued the same actions as before. With each shot, he thrust hard into her, enjoying the cries emanating from Star. Her hands grabbed again onto the blanket, crushing it between her fingers at each cracking sound, knowing what was coming.

Getting to the last bullet, he pushed his rifle to the side, giving them more room. Repositioning himself slightly, he grabbed a hold of Star's hips, lifting her body up off of the ground, so that she was now kneeling before him, her ass high with him still inside. He began to pump, listening to the echoing sounds coming from Star which made him only want to move harder and faster.

Reaching down with his left hand, he felt around until he found her other free hole, sliding a single finger inside. As he moved both, Star planted her hands on the blanket and began to push herself back onto him. She was trying to take all of him, so he slid a second finger inside.

"More," she whined after a minute of him doing that, so he then added a third. The lustful cry almost made him lose it.

He was already so close, having to watch Star's body shiver and shake as he plunged into her, over and over. Star's right hand eventually released the blanket and disappeared underneath her own body. Seconds later, he could feel her hand touching his as he pumped his fingers in and out. She moved his hand out of her and placed it between her lips, wanting him there instead.

As he began to rub around, knowing they were both so close, he went for the spot. Seconds later, Star screamed, "Scary!" as her body clamped down hard onto him, gripping him tighter than it ever had before, causing him to orgasm with her.

They both collapsed onto the blanket, spent of energy and fulfilled with pleasure. After a few hard breaths, he reached over and pulled Star's body hard against his, wrapping both of his arms around her to keep her close, his legs doing the same. Feeling her snuggle up against him, her naked cheeks coming to rest against his exposed cock, made him chuckle. He then grabbed the blanket and pulled as much as he could over to cover her so that she would not have to cover up.

"That was way more fun than the first time we were out here," he heard her softly say, sounding as if she were falling asleep. He kissed the top of her head, content to just hold her for a while, hoping that she was warm enough as he began to drift to sleep.


	41. Their Final Night Together

**Song: _We've Got Tonight_ by Bob Seger**

* * *

They arrived back at the house minutes after the sun had finally set, ending their last day together.

Star had also fallen asleep as Scary had held her tight, not wanting today to end, but it had not taken long for the temperature to change in the wrong direction to wake her up with a freezing wind blowing over her naked body. Even Scary's warm body and the blanket could not keep her from shivering as she rolled over to kiss him awake, bringing an adorable smile to his face.

He had started to pack up the equipment that they had brought to the lake as she quickly got dressed. As they walked back to the house, the idea of the Chair taking everything they had together upset her, but she was not going to let it show if she could help it. Scary was about to go through his own special hell tomorrow, and she didn't want to add her emotions on top of them.

Looking past the fact that even though he was an effective killer, why would he have agreed to become one? What was there about his past that was so terrible that he had consented to have his mind erased over and over, on top of being frozen like a statue? Did it have something to do with his arm? Had something so bad happened to him that he wanted to forget it? Had he lost someone that he cared about? Had his childhood been that bad? It was pointless to ask since he didn't even remember.

Opening up the back door, they were assaulted with the wonderful smell of dinner in the oven. While Scary went to put the bags and rifle in the den area, she began to start the remaining side dishes to go with the large slab of beef.

Each of them were fairly quiet, but not really in an uncomfortable way. Neither one of them seemed to be looking forward to tomorrow. She should be happy that she would be going home, but at the same time, she didn't want to lose Scary. But what if she didn't have to?

As they were sitting at the table eating dinner for the last time, she decided to ask him the one question that she had thought of earlier and could not stop thinking about, "Scary, what about if you come with me tomorrow?"

"I am coming with you. You would never find the Embassy alone," he told her not understanding where she was going with her question.

"No, I mean, what if you come with me _into_ the Embassy?" she asked again looking up at him.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, making her drop her head at his cute ignorance.

"So that you could come with me to America. You could come home with me," she smiled at him wondering if this would work.

Scary gazed at her for a few moments, as if he were considering the topic carefully. Each beat of her heart made her think that he was actually considering her offer. That they could stay together...

"No," he simply said, her stomach dropping all the way to her feet.

"Why not?" she asked slightly angry at him.

"You do not understand. My existence my may or may not be truly know, but if I even step foot into any Embassy, then I would become their prisoner. I am not an innocent like you are. I'm an assassin. I would never see anything beyond a jail cell for the rest of my life, if I was lucky," he informed her, as her own form of understanding started to occur.

"Then there is the fact that if I am not here tomorrow for my extraction, all of the HYDRA agents in this country will be sent out with instructions for my capture and return to duty. They will continue to hunt me down until I am back with them. The worst scenario would be that they put out a kill order for me, and anyone that I am with. I will _not_ allow that to happen."

Star glared at him for a few moments as she pictured him being thrown to the ground and arrested, hauled away to a jail cell where she would never see him again. She refused to imagine him lying dead with the other probability that he had mentioned.

Dropping her head to stare at her food, her mind raced for a few minutes as she tried to think of anything else, any other way that he would not have to go, but nothing was coming to her.

He was indeed going to be leaving her tomorrow, in more than one way.

"Then, what do you want to do for your last night?" she asked him lifting her head, but with a sad smile.

"I want to dance."

* * *

When Star started to clean up the kitchen, he pointed out that she didn't need to do since he was destroying the house tomorrow. Instead he saw her grab the scissors from the drawer in the kitchen before starting to head into the bedroom. The moment he was about to say something, thinking that she was going to be cutting her hair, Star held up her hand.

"I'm _not_ touching my hair. It's for something else. I'll be out in a little while," she said before closing the bedroom door.

He decided to begin the cleaning process on his rifle. He needed to do it tonight in case there was anything that went wrong or slightly off tomorrow. His Handler would expect him to have finished this task once Kozlov was eliminated. Coming back with an unclean gun may put some sort of doubt into his Handler's mind about his mission, making them examine his mission report, or even looking closer at the location, and worst...at Star.

And if they used the compliance words on him…

He knew that once Star started to tell her story that word would get back to his Handler. His own mission report was going to include her running from the location, and his reasoning's behind him not killing her. He could only hope that they were good enough of reasons for the Handler. If she gave her story without him included, it could turn into a problem with the American's not believing her story of how she managed to escape Kozlov.

When he finished cleaning his rile, he then started to check the bags to make sure that his guns were still separated from the guards. Without the extra ammo his bag was much lighter, doubly so without those nasty bars and drinks which he had later thrown in the trash can in the generator shed.

The two things he was going to miss would be Star and her cooking. He knew that sex would be the third item, but it was Star and just being here with her that was foremost in his thoughts.

The bag of guns from the guards was tossed inside of the guard house, a slight decaying smell catching his nose even though he tried to hold his breath. He would be taking out that building, as well as the generator, since they were in such close proximity.

The only concern he had was the remaining gas for the generator blowing up, but he was going to drain most of it out, using it as the ignition source for the two main fires he needed to create.

As he waited for Star to finally open the bedroom door, he'd had plenty of time to arrange the house how he wanted it to be. He had pushed the couch back under the window out of the way. The kitchen table had been pushed into the corner where the counter separated the kitchen and den. He had even put the chairs on top of it for a bit of extra room.

Examining the remaining open space in the area, he found that there was still plenty if he needed to get Star up onto the counter from the den, the thought bringing a smile to his face.

The upholstered chair had been pushed on the wall next to the fireplace facing out. The entire room was now an open space for them to dance in for as long as they wanted, or for as long as they could without being distracted with other ideas.

He knew that them being together again was a possibility, or a guarantee, but when he had told Star that he wanted to dance, he had meant it. More than sleeping with her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and pretend that they still had another week..hell, another _month_ of being together here is this small house. Just the two of them.

Looking to the bedroom door at hearing it open, he found that Star was standing in the opening wearing what looked to be a tight dress, but he knew that there was no such thing in the house. The beautiful sight of her made him ache in a good way.

Somehow she had taken a large red t-shirt that neither one of them had used, cutting it in different places all around. He could see sections of strips of fabric tied together to bring the material tighter to her body. The sleeves had been cut off entirely so that only a wide strip of fabric rested on her bare shoulders. Along the sides there were places where he could see her smooth skin peeking through slits that ran the entire length down.

She turned out the bedroom light behind her as she walked towards him. The pink star tattoo was prominently exposed, looking so beautiful to him, even with the remaining bruising from when he had almost lost her.

"You made a dress?" he asked as he held out his hand for her to take.

"Usually girls wear dresses when dancing with a partner," she told him as he lifted her arm high so that she could spin, allowing her loose flowing hair to glide through the air.

That was when he saw that the entire back of the 'dress' was cut into strips, exposing her back from her shoulders down to the small of her back. That was when he also realized that Star was not wearing any type of undergarment.

Leaning over he gave her a firm, but chaste kiss, his chest swelling at the thought that Star had done something like that specifically for him. When they pulled apart, Star looked around at how the house was changed, giving them a large amount of room.

"You have to be in charge of the music, though," he informed her. "None of that strange stuff you were listening to that first time you thought you were dancing."

Star scrunched up her nose at his remark, giving her the cutest face. He felt a hallow feeling in his chest at knowing he would never see it again.

"I think I can handle that, Scary," she said moving over to the record player.

In just a matter of a few short minutes, she had pulled out every album she had deemed appropriate for them.

He had sat down on the couch watching her work, trying to decide if he wanted to know why he knew how to dance. He knew that the reason he didn't was due to the Chair, but why would he have learned to dance in the first place? Did he used to have someone special in his life who liked to dance? Had he danced with her? Had she taught him? Even though he knew there were songs that they could dance to, the music just felt slightly off, like it was the wrong kind. Maybe that was something else to do with the Chair?

After Star finished loading the record player, she turned off the main lights, leaving only the fireplace to illuminate their dancing space. She came over to where he was on the couch, holding out her hand for him to take, but he could only stare at her as she stood there, smiling down at him, looking so lovely in her red dress, all for him.

"Are you going to get up or not?" she smiled down at him after a few long moments of him trying to burn the image of her into his mind, wondering if there indeed was some way to prevent the Chair from stealing her away from him.

He took her hand and stood, wrapping both of his arms around her slender waist, which she then duplicated with her own move. The first song began to play its gentle melody as they began to sway with each other, Star resting her head on his chest as she gripped him tightly.

Listening to the lyrics as they moved across the floor slowly, his hand began to stroke the length of her loose hair, from her head to her waist, his fingertips sneaking between the cut material, ticking her skin. He could still feel the raised scars from the abuse she had suffered for so many years, but they were not ugly to him.

They had created the wonderful creature in his arms that had brought him such fun moments over the past few days.

When the song ended, he let her go, heading over to the machine, altering the music selection that Star had made for them. Hearing that the same song starting to play again, he went back over to her, resuming the hold he had on her. They began to move again, this time he held her hand so that he could guide her, allowing her to spin as the song echoed through the darkened room.

He noticed that with the low flames of the fire touching her skin, the bruising was all but gone from his sight, making her look perfect.

"Scary, did you mean to make the song keep repeating?" Star asked him as it began to play for a third time.

"Yes, this time I did," he told her as she laughed as he spun her again, pulling her back into him as he then dipped her back, her hair caressing the floor with its length.

"So, we finally found a favorite song for you?" she asked as her head came to rest once again on his chest, her hand traveling up his left arm without a bit of fear at what it could possibly do to her one day.

"And it only took nine days," he joked with her as he gripped firmly around her waist and twirled her entire body, causing a delightful giggle from her.

Star was letting him dictate this evening, so he keep the song on repeat for at least ten more plays before he finally changed it back to the other songs that she had chosen. The rest of the songs they danced to were fine, but for some reason that first song kept coming back to him. Maybe it was because it was the first song of their last night together, maybe it was the lyrics, but after the rest of the songs finished playing, he put the song back on again.

Star was in the kitchen getting them some ice water, both of them thirsty from dancing for well over two hours.

"Dude, I think you're hooked," she said handing him his glass when the song began playing again.

Both of them had a thin layer of sweat from dancing in front of the warm fire for so long, but to him, it only increased her beauty. Finishing off her water, she placed the glass on the hearth, as he just watched her move around the room as he drank.

Standing in front of the window, he could see her silhouette from the light of the remaining sliver of moonlight.

Gulping down the water, he silently moved across the hardwood floor, making sure that she would not hear him approaching. Slipping his arms around her waist from behind, he rested his chin on her shoulder, looking out at the swaying trees and night sky with her for a minute, just enjoying being with her like this. Star's arms then slid over his, taking his hands into hers, gripping him tightly to her.

Turning her head, Star's lips found his as he suddenly found himself desperately needing her.

Freeing his hands, they crept until they made their way through the slits in the back of her dress, slowly moving across her sides until they reached her breasts. He loved to hear the sound she made as his fingers began to carefully encompass them, giving just enough pressure to her nipples so that they quickly firmed into little buds, just for him.

Moving his head, his lips began to move across the soft skin of her neck down to the exposed shoulders. Pulling his hands back so that she was free, he gripped her waist again.

Star turned around in his arms, holding onto his neck so that he could not leave her.

Taking the necessary steps, he was able to guide her to the bedroom, delicately lying her down onto the bed, their eyes never once leaving each other's. Star slid her body across the bed, his own body not following her, his mind set on something more for her. His hands then slid up her smooth legs until they found the bottom of the dress, and began to push it up, exposing her waiting sex for him.

* * *

Moving her legs further apart, Scary began to kiss the inside of her thigh, slowly making his way closer to where she was eagerly anticipating him. The moment that she finally felt his tongue touch her, Star closed her eyes at the wonderful feeling.

"Star," Scary got her attention by stopping all movement, "Keep looking at me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," she replied, but receiving a slightly angry growl from him, she then answered, "I mean, yes, Scary."

Hearing her say her name for him brought a smile to his face as he lowered his face between her legs again. His tongue began to swirl all over her, causing her blood to pump faster, feeling every beat of her heart between her legs.

Star began to gasp for air as his pale blue eyes forced hers to stay locked onto him. Her nails were digging into the sheet under her as she started to find it hard to focus on him. His own eyes would stray, but he would keep checking to make sure that she was obeying his command.

Just before Scary caused her to scream again, he stopped, giving her an evil grin knowing that she was so close.

"You are _so_ mean," she whined at him as he stood up and lifted his shirt over his head.

As he removed the last of his clothes, all she could do was contemplate the silver arm shining with the glow from the firelight. Even remembering the log he had so easily crushed earlier, there was _no way_ that she could _truly_ be scared of him anymore.

Star knew that she had told Scary that she would try to be, but how could she…when she had fallen in love with him.


	42. Day Ten - Extraction Day

**Song: _Goodbye Stranger_ by Supertramp**

* * *

**Day Ten - Extraction Day  
**

* * *

Waking up that morning was the worst feeling he'd ever had…well, for at least as long as he could remember. It symbolized that the mission was almost over, that he would be leaving here today…and that he would be leaving Star.

She was lying up against his chest, facing him in a curled up ball, her legs scrunched up against his abdomen as he lay on his side. He could feel her right hand gripping his upper left arm while her other arm was around his side, pulling him towards her.

In the middle of the night, only a few hours after they had both exhausted themselves with exploring each other's bodies for the last time, he had been woken to the soft shaking of her body as she silently cried.

He thought at first that Star was asleep and crying during a bad dream, but when he had tried to hold onto her to comfort her and ease her fright, she had rolled over and he knew that she was awake. She never said anything as time seemed to slow with her head resting against his chest, while she cried her silent tears.

He could not question her about the reason for them since he feared her answer.

Now, just as the sun was coming up, it was time for them to start getting ready for their trip. He had been going over the details with Star for the past few days, while making her constantly repeat the story devised to help keep her alive. Never once had she answered wrong or forgotten a detail. He could only hope that for the next few weeks, how long that he figured she would be questioned over and over, that Star would continue to make him proud.

"Star," he quietly said, running his hand over her cheek, "It's time to wake up."

"No, it's not," she said as he felt the arm around him tighten to hold him close.

Smiling down at her, he gave her forehead a kiss as he began to try to move away from her. That got Star's attention because a second later, she moved so that she could press her hands to his chest, forcing him onto his back. Once he was there, she quickly made her way on top of him, her arms wrapping around him again as she lay down on his chest, her legs around his while trying to slide underneath for a better grasp.

So he would give her this moment, wrapping his arms around her.

The fact that she was trying so hard to hold on to him, not just physically, hurt him in a way that he had never felt. He realized that if he felt that they had even a _chance_ of fleeing this place together, of escaping HYDRA without being caught, or Star being hurt, he may have just attempted it. But his programming was so ingrained into him, that he knew there would be deadly repercussions for such an act of betrayal.

And he would not allow Star to be hurt, or killed, due to his own wishes.

Instead, he let her lay there for a few more minutes. It was when he felt the wetness of her tears rolling down his chest that he knew they had to separate, otherwise, he may just try to run anyways…HYDRA be damned.

"It's time to get you home," he firmly stated, hoping to distract her with the _good_ that was going to come from this day, not the _loss_ they would both be feeling. That seemed to get her attention enough to slide onto the bed on her back as she stared at the ceiling.

As she lay there, he picked out the most normal looking clothes that he could find in the drawer that she had made for him. He found a pull-over shirt with a wide collar, similar to the ones that Aleksey and the others had worn. It was a bit dressier than just a t-shirt, hoping that it would help him blend in with what people on the street would be wearing. From the pile of clothes that they had not used from the guards, he selected a brown and white coat, something not useful for blending in while in the woods.

"Come on, get up," he said dragging the sheet off from over her still naked body. "We need to find you something that would be appropriate to wear."

Star reluctantly rose and came to kneel down at the pile, sorting through it also.

"Find something that looks like you could have stolen it from a clothes line," he informed her. Eventually she pulled out a button down shirt and a pair of smaller pants.

"I can use a piece of rope to hold these up," she said pulling the suitcase out from under the bed. Flipping it open, he watched as she found what she needed from the horrible bag. Once she was dressed, minus the rope, Star then pulled two mismatched socks from the pile before putting the man's shoes on. "Could you unlock the front door?"

He did so, to see her go outside and begin to run the clean piece of rope in an area of dry dirt, making it look worn and used. He smiled at her thinking for that bit of trickery. Heading inside, she then made them a quick breakfast, which included a large pot of coffee for him.

"I also have you a plate of food for once you get back here…you know…in case you are hungry," she told him casually, then adding while mumbling under her breath, "Because you _always_ are."

He then grabbed her around the waist tight as he firmly began to bite at her neck with rough kisses at the final joke about food she would make. Listening to her laugh as he tickled her sides, feeling her struggling against him, he tried to focus all his attention on that wonderful sound, hoping that at least a small bit of it would stay with him.

* * *

Scary pulled the map of Moscow out of the drawer where he had put it the other day. He had gone back out to the van and retrieved it so that he could study the roads they would need to use to get to the Embassy undetected. He somehow knew where certain checkpoints were located, another not-erased memory. She figured HYDRA needed him to not get caught if they sent him to the city.

They headed outside to the vehicles they would be using for the journey. Star would be using Aleksey's, or one of the other two dead men's car, while Scary would be driving Kozlov's nicer car. Their story needed Star to be able to get from here to the city, and if she had run away down the road, the only access point to the house, she would have found the car at the end of the road, where they had parked the other day before walking the rest of the way to the house.

He informed her that he had fingerprints inside of the vehicle that needed to be removed. The areas that he had to wipe down inside of the vehicle were where he had touched in the front, as well as the backseat, which brought a smile to her face at remembering. At the trunk area and on the jack, since he had touched it to showed her how to use it, he also carefully wiped with the spare shirt from the house. Eventually, Scary seemed satisfied with his cleaning mission.

Star had been busy doing something special inside of the house while he was outside. She was sure that later, he would find out.

Scary then came back inside for a few minutes while she went out and got the junker car started, getting the heater going. When he came back out, Star saw that he had a couple of handguns in his possession. Tucking two into the back of his pants, he then wiped down another with the spare shirt. He then headed into the guard house, making her wonder what he was doing. Exiting the building, he then walked over and placed it under the driver's seat using a different clean shirt so that his hands did not actually touch the weapon.

"That is in case something happens," he told her. "Do _not_ touch it otherwise."

"What were you doing in there?" she asked curious.

"I placed it in Aleksey's hand so that his prints would be on it," he grinned at her. "As well as the bullets."

"Alright…that's an impressive idea," she said giving him a kiss for thinking of something like that.

Scary then glanced around the entire perimeter of the location, as if just double checking to make sure they were alone. Satisfied with whatever he didn't see, Star then found herself pressed up against the car, his warm body pinning her in place. For the next few minutes, they kissed, held and touched each other for the last time, neither one of them wanting to leave.

Finally, both released the unyielding grasp they'd had on each other. But, as Scary started to walk away to his own vehicle, Star seized his silver hand, stopping him from moving, but he did not turn around to face her. The only sounds were the car engine and the generator going.

"Promise that you'll come back to me one day. Promise…even if you don't mean it," she managed to weakly whisper in a broken voice, her eyes trying to form tears. The next minute they stood there, neither one being able to look at the other, holding flesh to metal hands.

"I promise," she finally heard whispered, just as low as she had been speaking, his voice also not sounding like his usual self.

Dropping Scary's hand from her own, she watched as he clenched it over and over as he made his way to Kozlov's car, never looking back at her.

Crawling inside of her own vehicle, she began to adjust the radio, trying to find a station to listen to as a distraction. When she couldn't find one, she gave up, guessing that they were too far away from any radio towers for it to work, letting the soft static hiss. She would just wait, knowing that as they drove eventually the radio would start receiving a signal. It would also let her know that they were getting close.

They pulled out from the parking spaces, heading down the dirt road, with Scary in the lead. Scary had told her that she would be following him the entire way and that he would make sure that she never lost sight of his car. It was going to take them just about two hours to get to the outskirts of Moscow. Reaching the city, they would follow the path he had chosen to drive, which would eventually pass directly in front of the American Embassy, very noticeable by the iron wall and predominantly flying American flag.

At that point, he would continue on while Star pulled her car to a stop, a bit away from the entrance per Scary's advice, as to not make the guards suspect a car bomb. He instructed her to quickly exit the car and make the short run to the closed gates, preventing entry to the building. There would be American soldiers standing guard out front that would bark out orders at her.

Star was to then start calling out her name, explaining that she was American, who she was, and what had happened to her. They would eventually open the gate to let her inside, where they would escort her into the building, where she would begin the interrogation.

The entire drive she concentrated on the story that Scary had made her repeat numerous times over the past two days. She was confident in her ability to not falter from his instructions.

When she first heard the low static from the radio turn into a garbled Russian voice, she began to cry happy tears. She began to wonder if Scary had even bothered to turn on his radio. Did he even remember that cars had radios?

More time passed and the voice became clearer as the wooded landscape slowly turned into more occupied rural houses and farms. After making a left turn off of the road they had traveled so far on, she was surprised at the sudden change from rural to urban. There were houses and shops lining both streets, people walking around wrapped in numerous layers against the cold. It all looked so normal.

For the next half-hour, Star followed Scary as led them down smaller side streets, keeping back at the distance he had instructed her to. Turning onto a large thoroughfare, after only a few minutes, the familiar colorful flag snapping in the hard wind up ahead got her attention.

Glancing back at Scary's car, she noticed that he had put on a bit of speed, as to leave her behind as she dropped her own speed to put some distance between them.

As the tears started to flow again, she knew it was from losing Scary, and not at finally being able to go home.

Pulling the car to a stop at the curb near large concrete planters, which prevented getting too close to the building, Star exited the car, staring at the guards in their military uniforms who were now very intently watching her movements.

Giving a final glance down the street, there was not a sign of the other car at all.

Scary was gone.

Star then began to move quickly towards the guards.

* * *

He had pulled down a side street not too far past the Embassy. Exiting the vehicle, he pulled the cap Star had used the past few days over his head, positioning his hair a bit forward to try and disguise his features some. Making his way to the corner, peeking around, he was able to see that Star had already pulled the car off of the street and was exiting it.

When he saw her look down the street to where she figured he would be, it brought a smile to his face. Star was looking for him.

As she made it to the gate, he saw her talking with the two guards. After a few moments, one of them went inside of the small guard shack, picking up a telephone receiver. A few minutes went by before the metal gates to the large building open, revealing a woman and man. They went up to where Star was standing, the guard keeping a couple of feet distance between them, still wary of Star's sudden appearance.

After a few moments of speaking, he watched as Star then threw her arms around the woman, who then began to lead her inside of the building. He waited until the gates were closed before heading back to his vehicle.

The drive back to the empty house seemed to go much quicker for some reason. Maybe it was because his mind had not been on the trip, but on Star instead. He kept thinking about anything he could that would remind him of her. Her smile, her laugh, her teasing ways…her hair. Everything that he thought of brought an ache to his chest, and a slight pain to his eyes.

Pulling onto the dirt road, he finally stopped the car in front of the house. He was not sure how long he sat behind the wheel staring at the empty wooden structure, but eventually his stomach began to growl, making him chuckle at the sound. Star would have gotten such a laugh out of hearing his belly's request for food.

Stopping just inside of the door, he removed his shoes…because that was what Star would have expected of him.

Making his way inside, he noticed how quiet the house not only sounded, but also how empty it felt without her presence.

Opening up the refrigerator, he saw the large piled plate of beef and vegetables that Star had told him about. She was still looking out for him.

Once he had finished eating his meal while sitting alone at the table, he glanced over to the pantry, smiling at knowing what was still inside. He picked his dirty dish up and placed it in the sink, even if he wasn't going to wash it.

Taking a couple of steps to the pantry, he opened the door. Seeing the metal tin that held the Turkish Delights caused him to laugh out loud at knowing how proud Star would be of him for eating his meal _without_ sneaking a dessert first.

Lifting the lid of the tin up, he noticed that there was a small piece of paper tucked inside the container. Star had left it here, knowing that he would not forgo this treat. Picking them up, he carried the two items to the table, putting the tin down so that he could open the folded item in his hand. There were two short sentences written in Star's handwriting.

_There is life in the lips of true lovers._

_It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all._

As he let the meaning of the words she had written envelop him, he finally broke down.

* * *

Star scanned the room again as the numerous people hustled about, making frantic calls to both American officials and Russian ones. Hours had passed since she had first been led to a small concrete room with only a table and chairs. They had questioned her over and over, just like Scary had told her they would. Three Russian officials had been granted access so that they would be party to her retelling of the events at the remote house belonging to Kozlov.

But not once did she ever deviate from the story.

During her first telling of the story, the two men who questioned her didn't seem to either believe, or understand, the part where it came to Scary emerging from the woods. She had told the story correctly, but they were hesitant to accept the strange tale of an assassin in black.

It wasn't until the third man entered the room an hour later and she had her retell the story again, that he seemed to believe her.

The story was told once again, but this time, his expression was of understanding at the tale.

She wondered if he was HYDRA, trying to confirm what she knew.

Now, she was sitting at a desk waiting for the phone in front of her to ring. Barbara, the woman who had come to the gate to meet her, had told her that once the phone rang to answer it. She had been the one put in charge of Star for her time while here, and under the Embassy's protection.

The part that had gotten her the strangest looks was when Star had later learned the date. October 31. Halloween. The last time she would ever see Scary would be on Halloween. She knew that Scary would not get the joke, but that made it _even funnier_ as she had lost it, laughing and crying at the same time. Barbara had wrapped her arms around her again, trying to comfort her, telling her she was safe, but not truly understanding the emotion that was encompassing her...the true loss which was making Star cry.

Finally, the phone on the desk suddenly rang, startling her a bit. None of the others nearby even seemed to notice. Barbara was off in the distance, across the room. Seeing Star looking over at her, Barbara gave her a reassuring nod before Star finally could manage to pick up the ringing phone.

After hearing the long forgotten familiar voice on the other end say her name for the first time in years, she finally said, "Hey, mom."

* * *

Watching the orange and yellow flames engulf the two buildings in the dark, he finally heard the sounds of a helicopter's approach. Stepping down the road just a bit, it gave the machine enough area to land in the open driveway and front lawn to pick him up.

As he watched it land, he smiled behind his mask as he remembered spending the past few hours.

Sitting alone in front of the fireplace on the couch, with his feet propped up like he and Star had done, while listening to different records, he had finished off the remaining pieces of Turkish Delight. His equipment bags were packed by the front door, his rifle clean, and he was dressed to leave, only his mask sitting on the mantle to stare down at him.

Climbing inside the helicopter, they quickly lifted off from the ground. With the additional air circulation from the blades fueling the fire, he watched from above as the house's roof collapsed in on itself, already making him miss the place he had come to enjoy being at.

Strapping himself in the seat, one of the soldiers near him handed him a set of headphones.

"{Any problems with the mission?}" he heard asked from his Russian Handler, who was back at the base where they were headed.

"{No.}"

Hours later, he was giving his mission report to the Handler, who was sitting at the table with a camera off to the side behind him, as he stood motionless before him. He told him of waiting days before Kozlov finally showed at the location with the guards. He explained seeing a girl being held prisoner by him, used and abused, as he waited for the right time to strike. He told how three men had shown up, attacking the guards, so he had used it as his time to strike, killing them also.

When he mentioned how the girl was able to get away by running down the road, he was questioned as to why he had not killed her.

"{She was not listed as part of the mission. Nor was she a threat to me,}" he calmly, coolly stated without hesitation, knowing that second sentence was the biggest lie he had ever spoken. Knowing the correct question to ask, while dreading the answer, "{Should she be eliminated?}"

"{No…that is not necessary,}" the Handler sighingly answered, casually writing down more notes. He wanted to ask so many things, to learn why it was not necessary when he finally spoke again. "{She has already been questioned by an agent. She was able to confirm what happened at the location. We had assumed that Kozlov had already disposed of her…his 'pet' he called her, but it seems that was not the case.}"

He was so careful to not quickly let out the breath he had been holding at hearing that Star was to live. Even with his mask still in place, he did not smile, but inside, his heart was pounding against his chest with glee.

His Handler finally finished writing.

"{Any malfunction with your arm? Does it need maintenance?}" his Handler asked.

"{No,}" he simply stated.

He almost wished that it did need it since it would give him more time before his memories of Star…

"{Go to the latrine and clean yourself up,}" he was instructed, being casually dismissed.

He walked through the door and down the hallway, guards at both ends, armed and watching him.

From somewhere else in the distance, he heard a radio playing a soft song…one he _now_ recognize.

Inside of the latrine, he sat on the bench and removed his vest, shirt, and boots. Standing up to remove his pants, he looked at his sock covered feet. Remembering the trick that Star had done, he stepped onto the tip of his left foot with his right. Applying pressure as he lifted his left foot, the sock slid off, just as it had done for Star. With a smile, he repeated the process with his right foot, before removing his remaining clothes and heading for the showers.

Standing under the luke-warm water, he scrubbed his body and hair with the rough bar of soap supplied to him…missing the hot water and soft hands that he had come to enjoy.

Now, walking into the large silo's chamber, his eyes fell on the Chair, displayed prominently in the middle of the room.

His emotions were raging inside of him, tearing him into two directions. He wanted so much to not forget Star, but he needed her to be safe.

If they felt there was a discrepancy with his mission report...if they used his compliance words and questioned him about it, before he sat in the Chair, he would tell them all about Star.

He had to keep her safe...and in a few moments, she would be.

As he calmly walked towards the Chair, he could only uselessly dream that one day, he could keep his promise to Star and return to her.


	43. End Act: One - Memories Of The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally wrote this story, this chapter was the actual epilogue.  
> 

**Very Early June**  
**Two months after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

**Song: _Soldier_ by Samantha Jade**

* * *

Steve glanced at the reflecting pool as the sun's light began to sparkle on the surface. He was close to finishing his final lap on a slowing warming June morning. As he rounded the corner of the park, he could not help but notice the older lady still sitting on the park bench as she had been for the entirety of his run.

Every time he had passed her, she had given him a gentle smile, it was kind but there seemed to be a touch of sadness to it for some reason. He had nodded at her during every lap, each time expecting her to be gone by the time he completed another. But still she sat, as if waiting for something, or someone.

As he slowed down, Steve took in her appearance a bit more carefully. She wore a flowing short sleeve blouse, in a very dark gray color with a pair of jeans. Her head held brown tresses, with a hint of silver mixed in, of _very long_ , straight hair, which was braided and resting over her left shoulder. Even with it shortened by being braided, he saw that the tip of her hair touched her thigh.

Her pretty face showed no wrinkles, but he could tell that she had to be at least in her fifties. She held herself gracefully, but he could see a strong confidence in her. Her eyes were sharp, never leaving his own. He knew _then_ that she was there for _him_.

Taking a few deep breaths to cool himself down from the run, he made his way over to where she sat.

"Ma'am," Steve greeted her, coming to a stop a few feet in front of her, hoping that he was not wrong in the fact that she wanted to speak with him. He often got fans wishing to meet him, but they were usually not as subtle as she was being.

"Captain Rogers. It is a pleasure to finally meet you," the lady said, holding out her hand, a silver chain bracelet with three small charms hanging from it, the red star one catching his attention. Steve took her offered hand, giving it a shake as his mind questioned the jewelry. He found that the lady still had a very firm handshake for her age. "I thought that meeting you in a casual setting would be the best. I hope that you do not mind."

"I take it that you being here is not just a coincidence then?" Steve asked, slowing sinking onto the other end of the bench, keeping a respectable distance from her.

"No, it is not. I had one of my people do a bit of research, and when they said that you liked to take your morning runs here, I thought that this would be the easiest way to have a chance to talk privately with you about…someone."

Steve looked over at her with a bit more skepticism before, looking around the area to see if they were being watched. She saw his action and gave a gentle laugh.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I did not mean to make you paranoid," she smiled at him, turning her body slightly to face him straight on. "But I do need to speak with you about a very sensitive subject. The Winter Soldier."

Steve instantly became alert, straightening his posture a bit more, re-checking his surroundings. If she were a remnant of HYDRA, she had caught him during one of the few times when he would be unarmed. But there was nothing in the surrounding area he could spot that should be alarming. He turned his attention back to the curious woman in front of him.

"What about him?" Steve asked calmly. He would find out if she was another reporter trying to do a story, then give his usual official statement concerning what had happened.

"I was wondering if there had been any news about James, or if he has tried contacting you since SHIELD fell and he disappeared. I know that the public does not know what _really_ happened to him, but I was hoping that you would be able to tell me that he was _safe_ ," she stated candidly, smiling a little at the shocked expression on Steve's face.

His jaw had dropped slightly at her admission to knowing Bucky's name.

After Natasha had dumped all of SHIELD's and HYDRA's files onto the internet, he had asked her to remove any files about Bucky. Steve was trying to protect him, and as far as he knew, any information linking James Barnes and the Winter Soldier was still _not_ common knowledge.

"How do you know that name?" Steve asked firmly while staring the woman down. He had more questions jumping into his head every moment but it seemed he needed to keep on track with each statement from this woman. Then he just decided to ask, "Are you HYDRA?"

She gave a beautiful laugh at that, shaking her head as she told him, "No, I am _definitely_ _not_ HYDRA."

"Then, who are you?" he asked bluntly, knowing that even if she was, she would have said that.

"Lucinda Trencher. Most people call me Lucy, but please, call me Star. I do work for the F.B.I., but I am here for _personal_ reasons."

"Then may I ask _exactly_ what your interest is in him, ma'am?" not wanting to say his name out loud.

"He saved my life, Captain. Technically, you can say that he saved me three times. I had hoped that with the fall of HYDRA that he would finally be free from them," she said, but he could hear a bit of hesitation in her voice, as if she was worried.

Steve stared at the woman, not sure what to say. He glanced down again at the charms hanging from her wrist.

When she saw where he was looking, Star lifted the bracelet up so that it rested in the palm of her hand, the simple red star taking on a new meaning for him. But then, Steve noticed that the other two charms were the letters W and S. As he then focused past the item, to the palm itself, he was able to see numerous faded scars all along her fingers and palms, which almost looked to be initials.

"I don't have anything to remember him by except this. I was working on a college project, and when I saw the star charm, I decided to make this. It was too dangerous for me to do anything else," she said, getting his attention, looking down at the charms with a glint of a tear in her eye.

"How do you know who he really is? Nobody except for higher ups in HYDRA knew his true identity."

"From my college history class. I had never paid that much attention to all of you during high school. To me as a teenager, you were all ancient history. I still remember the day that we started the chapter which focused on the Howling Commandos. The _second_ that I saw Scary's picture, there was never any doubt in my mind as to who he really was. I knew that the books were wrong, and that James was alive. Maybe not _well_ …but he _was_ alive," Star said wiping the corner of her eye.

"Scary?" he asked curious as to her name for Bucky.

"That was all that I knew to call him by. He didn't know his own name, you see. I never told anyone the truth about him, I couldn't, until now. He warned me about HYDRA being _everywhere,_ and thanks to you, I see that he was right. He would be so mad at me for even taking _this risk_ of speaking with _you_ , but I now know that _you_ are the _only_ other person on earth who I can trust with this. Please, can you tell me if he is okay? I promise to answer all of your questions, but I have been waiting for _so long_ to find out the answer to that question," Star said a bit more anxious this time.

Steve considered for a moment on how to handle the situation and decided to just talk openly with her. She seemed to have information about Bucky, and was willing to share it. She already knew too much for him to like. But he could also hear the hope in her voice as she spoke, sounding as if she wanted a positive answer from him, but which he knew that he did not have.

"I have not seen him since the day the Helicarriers fell. We fought that day, while he was still under the influence of HYDRA, but he did end up pulling me unconscious from the Potomac River before I could drown. I hope that means that he finally did remember me. I have been looking for him, but with no luck."

"But you do believe that he is safe somewhere? Free of HYDRA's mind wipes and not trapped somewhere in cryostasis?" she asked looking hopefully at him after hearing his statement.

His mouth then fully dropped open when she mentioned him being put under, because that was _definitely_ _not_ common knowledge. Was this woman actually associated with HYDRA somehow? Had she lied to him? Star then looked at his shocked face and began to laugh at him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not explaining myself very well, or at least in the proper order."

"That is a _big_ possibility," he agreed with her, giving a cautious smile to her. "And yes, I do not believe that he was taken away, but that he left under his own willpower."

He could see her entire body relax as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Star reached over, placing her hand on Steve's shoulder to comfort him.

"I have waited just over thirty years to finally hear that. I hope…no, I _know_ that you will not have to wait that long before you will see your friend again," Star said, with certainty in her voice.

"Thirty years?" Steve looked her in the eye wishing that he had the confidence in that statement that she seemed to have. He wondered if Star could see the doubt in his eyes.

"Yes. A lifetime. I promised to tell you my story. It does not start off happy, but then not many stories do…do they?" she said pulling her hand back and adjusting her seat to get comfortable.

"It seems like it has a happy ending though, judging by the fact that you are here to tell it to me, right?" Steve asked with a smile on his face, still wondering if she was lying to him for some reason. He hoped that by finding out her story would calm his fear about her.

"Yes, and not just for me. Because of what Scary did, I have devoted my life trying to save others from the same fate I would have had. You see…when I met the Winter Soldier, in October of 1983, I was a prisoner as someone's sex slave. I was there the day that my former owner, Yury Kozlov, was assassinated by the Winter Soldier."

Steve looked over at her, letting her words work their meaning into his head. She could probably see by the expression on Steve's face that he had gathered the meaning of her words. He turned away from Star, blushing slightly at the bluntness and topic of her conversation. She gave his hand a gentle pat to show her amusement at him being embarrassed.

"At the time that the Winter Soldier as assigned to eliminate Kozlov, I had been his sex slave for over four years. Kozlov was in negotiations to turn over information on the inner working of HYDRA, in Russia, to SHIELD. They found out what he was doing, and sent Scary to eliminate him. Kozlov had also grown tired of me, and had me taken to the remote location where he liked to permanently dispose of his 'pets', as he called us. That was how Scary saved me the first time. The Winter Soldier killed him and his guards, but Scary was not expecting to find me there also. He said that I did not fall into the parameters of his mission statement. Kozlov's timetable for arriving there was unknown, so Scary had days until his extraction was to take place. He decided to let me live until it was closer to the time he had to leave, then he was going to have to kill me, for the security of his mission. But, after spending over a week with him, things happened, and he decided to release me, before HYDRA arrived for him."

Steve sat in stunned silence as he listened to her story, but he had to know something.

"You spent _over a week_ with him? Did Bucky remember who he was?" Steve asked impatiently.

"No, not as far as I know, and if he did, he did not say anything to me," Star sadly admitted. "I would like to think that if he had, that he would not have waited for them to arrive."

Nodding his head, Steve had to agree with her. He had only had the one chance to really talk with Bucky, while they were fighting on the Helicarrier, but it had seemed to be enough time to overcome some of HYDRA's programming, or at least seem familiar to him. It seemed that meeting Star somewhere strange was not enough to free his mind.

"But during our time together, he slowly began to change, to show emotions and…well, anyways. He worked out a plan to get me to the U.S. Embassy in Moscow on the day that he was extracted back to his base, saving me the third time. I had to be very careful explaining the story that Scary had instructed me to tell. He had also told me enough of how HYDRA worked so that I knew I had to _always_ be careful. When I got back home, I started college and got a degree in international criminal justice. I then joined the F.B.I., and have worked in their division focusing on sex trafficking, because of what Scary did for me. Because of him, a lot of families have a happy ending," Star said before pausing.

Steve nodded in understanding, but he had heard the hesitation as she had begun to speak. There was something a bit more that she was hesitant about revealing.

"I'm glad that you didn't talk, or ever mention him and his true identity. HYDRA had infiltrated all sections of the government and security agencies. If you had said anything, I have no doubt that you would have either been killed, or just made to disappear," he said plainly, not beating around the bush with her.

"When I left, he warned me against saying anything, and that there was a chance that they could possibly even send _him_ to kill me. And if they did, that he would not remember me due to the mind wiping," Star said glancing down at the charm again. "I just hope that he really was able to get away from them that day."

Steve listened as Star then reminisced about some of her interactions with Bucky during the time she had spent with him. She had to tell him to close his mouth when she told him about how he had taught her the basics of being a sniper, then how to handle, assemble, and shoot the different guns they had. Star pointed out to him that it was Bucky's training of her that made her recruitment into the F.B.I. easier, since she knew how to shoot so well. Bucky had told her to keep training, learning how to protect herself, and she had.

He laughed out loud hearing about how Bucky had consumed any food that she made for him. He never was one to let food go to waste. Her teasing him about his addiction to Turkish Delight sounded so much like his old friend, not what they had turned him in to.

When Star told him of how the other three men arrived at the house to kill Kozlov and her, he almost could not believe how Bucky had saved her a second time. Bucky did not have to put himself into a situation where it was possible to have his mission compromised, but he had done so to save Star. Even as she talked about the event, she seemed so calm.

As the sun made its way higher, they continued to talk, knowing Star was happy to finally be able to share her stories with someone else. He began to realize as she spoke that there was not a bit of fear in her voice. Steve also learned that she had never married, instead focusing on her work. She eventually admitted to him that keeping a relationship was hard, especially when she said that the men she had tried dating had such a high standard to live up to.

That was when he really began to understand the depth of the relationship the two of them had formed.

"Star…did you fall in love with the Winter Soldier?"

"Yes, I did…but I sometimes wonder if I fell in love with the parts of him that were James. But really, they are one in the same, no matter what."

Steve sat there shocked for a few moments before he began to laugh, getting a curious look from Star.

"I don't know how much those history books told you, but Bucky always did have a way with the ladies," he admitted to her. But he realized that inside, he was glad that there was at least one other person out in the world that was not scared of Bucky.

"Do you know about the Chair? What it did to him?" Star eventually asked him.

"I found some files, telling how it was used to wipe his memories. That was why he didn't remember me. But, I think that some _part_ of him did, and _that_ was the _part_ that pulled me from the river."

"Scary told me what was going to happen to him when he got back to the base. That the Chair would make sure that our time together would be gone. He believed that the Chair _erased_ his memories, but if what you say is correct, maybe they only _suppressed_ them. I actually tried to convince him to run with me, to leave HYDRA behind, but he said that he couldn't. That it was too dangerous…for him and for me. He said that by going back, that he would be keeping me safe. That if we ran, that HYDRA would hunt us down."

Bucky had a slight chance to leave, but he had not. He had been worried for Star. Had he also grown feeling for the girl he had been spending time with? Steve liked to think that he had. That at least Bucky had that small bit of happiness during his lifetime of hell…before it was _ripped_ away from him.

Deciding that Star needed to know the full truth about what had happened, Steve then began to tell her about what had led up to Bucky being lost from the train, as well as the information from the file that Natasha had been able to get him about his second capture. He gave her just enough so that she knew part of how he had been tortured and manipulated into the Fist of HYDRA.

"If only I had known then, who Scary really was, maybe I could have changed his mind. Back then, I believed that he had volunteered to become the Winter Solider."

Steve watched as Star slightly began to breakdown, taking her hand into his to try and comfort her as she took in the painful life that had led Bucky to her. She looked so heartbroken but with her request to do so he continued the story, finally getting to where Bucky had saved him from drowning.

They continued to reminisce for a short time before Star's phone rang. Instead of answering it, she sent it to voicemail but he knew that it meant that she probably needed to go.

" _When_ you finally find him, can you let Scary know that he has at least one other friend out here, even if he doesn't remember me?" Star asked, and Steve could hear her voice shaking as she spoke, trying to hold her emotions inside once again. "He only called me by the name Star, and he may remember this," she said reaching up to pull the top of her shirt away from the pink star tattoo resting on her collar bone.

"I made him promise, on that last day, to come back to me. A foolish request of a love-struck young girl, so I will understand if he doesn't want to see me…either because he doesn't want to think about what they made him do...but more than likely because he doesn't remember me. But, when you find him, could you at least let me know that he is alright and safe, either way?"

"I certainly will, Star," Steve said, watching as Star stood up to leave. He stood up along with her, hating that their time had been cut short. She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it over to him.

"Call me any time you want to talk. I would love to hear more about James, and I have more stories about Scary, some even not x-rated for sensitive young ears such as your own," Star grinned, making him smile at the tease. She turned to step away, but then she paused at looking over at the water. Her voice was strained as she admitted, "When I got here this morning, I had a sliver of hope that I would find the two of you running together."

When she started to leave again, he called out, "Star," getting her attention.

She slowly turned to look at him, and he saw raw pain of her expression at the fact that Bucky had not been here. He knew the feeling, but seeing her hurting so much made him feel even worse.

"Would you have said something? Even if you were sure that Bucky did not recognized you?" he asked.

Star tilted her head down to stare at a rock that she nudged with the tip of her shoe for a moment.

"I don't know. Maybe if I had found him here with you, safe...I think that it may have been enough to ease the hurt of having to lose him all over since he would not have remembered me."

Reaching out, he held his arms open. Star realized what he wanted, giving him a lovely smile, and stepped forward into his embrace.

Steve whispered into her ear, "Thank you for being a friend when he needed one. Even if he did not know it. And I _will_ be calling you...very soon."

* * *

**Mid-July (Roughly Six Weeks Later)**

Sitting down at a table in the small diner, Bucky pulled the small notebook from his coat pocket along with a pen, two items he always kept on him now. He began to write down what he could remember from the dreams that had once again haunted his sleep.

It was still early in the morning, so the diner was not crowded, and the waitress came over to his table not long after he sat down. The radio was playing music in the background, just enough to drown out the sound of the other diners conversations.

"What will it be, darlin'?" she asked with a heavy southern drawl.

"Coffee, black, and keep it coming," he said, not looking her in the eye.

"Sure thing, honey," she said walking away after dropping a menu across from him, hitting something and making it knock into the wall the table butted into. Looking over, he saw that a small pile of broken crayons was lying near the sugar bowl. He continued to write even as the waitress delivered the cup of coffee without waiting to see if he wanted anything else.

He was still trying to keep a low profile as he hid from what could remain of HYDRA. He knew the punishment for running the way he had, but after seeing Steve, remembering him just enough, he knew he couldn't go back to them, even if he hadn't understood why at the time.

Ever since he had gone to the museum and seen his own face staring at him, the memories had been slowly coming back to him. As more memories of a scrawny blond kid came back, he had considered trying to contact Steve, but doing so would put the Punk in danger. HYDRA, if they were still out there, would never stop looking for him.

He was surprised that after the fall of SHIELD and HYDRA, that _his_ mission files had not been everywhere, but for some reason they were not. There had been plenty of other missions leaked, but not a single one of his. He could only guess that Steve had something to do with that. He had expected every available government agency to be hunting him down, but so far, he had not had any encounters with anyone.

Had Steve somehow managed to take down all of HYDRA? Was he truly free? If he was, could he contact Steve? So many small pieces of his old life had returned, and most of them included his best friend. Steve would be able to answer so many of the questions he had. Bucky knew that he had no one else after being frozen for so long. Everyone he ever knew was dead. But somehow the Punk had managed to stay alive.

Over the next couple of minutes, he finished off one cup of coffee while writing, trying to figure out what images had been real, and when or where they had taken place. The waitress silently filled his cup for him, before moving to the next table. Customers continued to enter the diner, the music kept playing in the background, and he found himself staring out of the window, trying to figure out the missing piece to the event. His memories were there, he was just having a hard time making them fit. It was like watching scenes from someone else life.

Listening to the radio announcer over the speaker, he heard, "… _so be careful on the crosstown and expect heavy delays. Now, in honor of my wedding anniversary, I'm going to play the song my wife and I used for our first dance. I love you, buttercup_ ," as the song stared in the background.

Soft piano music began as the man began to sing soft lyrics. He was not sure why but his mind zoned away from the memory he had been trying to capture. Instead, all of his focus was on the strangely familiar song. Why? There was no way he had ever heard this song before...right? Bucky then glanced down at the open book.

Turning to a new page, he stared at a large white section of the notebook, his mind trying to come up with an image of…something. Closing his eyes, he tried to figure out what was bothering him, why this song seemed to be pulling at him to remember something. When his eyes opened, he was looking towards the pile of broken crayons, one color in particular getting his attention.

There was an image in his mind that he needed to see.

Picking up the broken item and letting his hand take over, he watched as the haunting image took shape on the paper in front of him. He scratched out the crude, simple shape easily.

As he placed the pink crayon back on the table, Bucky stared at the image he had drawn in his latest memory book. At first, he had believed that he was just drawing his own star, from his shoulder, but the moment he had seen the crayon, he _knew_ that it had to be _pink_ , not red.

_"…We've got tonight, who needs tomorrow? Let's make it last, let's find a way…"_

As different images suddenly started to flash quickly through his mind, he gripped his head as he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

A house, a wooded area, a lake, a beautiful smiling girl in a red dress looking down at him, a fireplace, his hands running through long brown hair.

When they were finished, he glared down at the image in his book again, his chest tightened in pain.

Or was it something else?

"Star," he whispered…

_**End of Act: One** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving the story the way that I did, not giving them a happily ever after, I had a lot of request for continuing it and bringing the two of them back together.  
> So, after a few months of considering how to do that, and where to take the story, I came up the second half (Act: Two). I'll start posting them either tomorrow or the next day (still have to re-edit them).


	44. A Morning Run With Steve And A Suspicious Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: Star and Steve have talked and had lunch a couple of times since their first meeting not that long back, getting to know each other.

**Act: Two**

**Song: _Alone_ by I Prevail  
**

* * *

**Mid-June  
About One Week After Steve and Star Met**

"On your left," Steve's voice came from behind the two of them as they casually jogged around the reflecting pool.

"Yeah, we get it," Sam sarcastically called out to him as he passed them yet again while she and Sam were still barely at the beginning of their first and only lap.

"Is he always like that?" Star asked Sam as Steve's form was already shrinking in the distance.

"Unfortunately, yes. _Every_ damn lap. The worst part is that he isn't even showing off yet," Sam told her as they made the turn. "All Steve told me was that a friend of his was going to be joining us this morning, but I figured that I knew all five of his friends."

"We only met about a week ago," she started, guessing that Steve had intentionally not told Sam too much, wanting to give her the opportunity let Sam know only what she wanted him to know about her and Scary…Bucky. There was _no way_ she was going to get used to calling him that. "We have a mutual friend. When we were talking, I made the mistake of mentioning that I've been running marathons for almost thirty years, so how could I turn down an offer to run with Captain America? Little did I know it was actually going to be a dose of humility."

"So, Lucy, do you work here in Washington?" Sam asked, trying to be subtle with his interrogation.

She had asked Steve to only call her Star when they were alone, so he had introduced her to Sam as what everyone whom they met would call her. Only Scary and Steve would know the name Star.

"Yes, I'm a special agent with the F.B.I.," she answered, which made Sam give her a very narrowed suspicious look. She could understand considering what Sam knew from the S.H.I.E.L.D. collapse and Scary's true identity. So he decided to alleviate some of his worry with, "I work in the Human Trafficking section specializing in sex traffickers."

Well, now the suspicious look had been replaced with curiousness.

"That's not a job for the faint of heart," he told her as they turned down a tree-lined path.

"You're telling _me_?" she joked with him, wondering what Sam would do if she told him the full truth. But even though Steve said that Sam could be trusted, along with Natasha Romanoff whom she had seen talking with the congressional panel, she was not just suddenly going to trust everyone. Even with Hydra being exposed, she remembered Scary's lessons on being careful. So she would only trust Steve for now.

For the next half hour, they jogged around the park and reflecting pool once, while Steve lapped them about five times. Star remembered watching him before their first meeting, and it was not something that one got used to easily she guessed. His speed was still an impressive sight today. Sam led her over to a small cluster of trees to give them some shade as they sat on the grass to cool down. Steve was still finishing his lap on the other side of the pool from them.

"So how did you meet Steve?" she asked, pushing a loose bobby pin back in that was holding her braid into a bun.

"Just like that," he pointed across the way at the sprinting man. "Back at the beginning of April, on my normal morning run, he passed by me, doing that damn ' _on you left'_. Around the third time, I figured out that it was his way of mocking me."

"Let me guess…you then tried to keep up with _that_ ," she then pointed at where Steve was heading towards them.

"Yeah. I think I about burst a lung," Sam said as Steve came to a stop near them.

"Finished making us look bad?" Star asked Steve.

"For today, yes," he grinned at them.

Glancing at her watch, Star saw that she had just enough time to get home, clean herself up and get to the morning briefing.

"Well, look at that. It's the time when people who are not superheroes need to go get ready for _real_ work," she grinned at them as she stood up. She knew that Steve and Sam did a lot of classified stuff still, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up to tease them.

"Real work?" Sam smartly asked at her jest.

"Hanging out with Steve all day does not count as work," she joked with Sam.

"You have no idea how much work it is trying to keep him alive!" Sam told her, pointing at Steve.

"I am _not_ that bad," Steve tried to defend himself.

Turning to her, Sam informed her, "By the _third_ time we met, he was knocking on my door early in the morning because someone tried to _blow him up_ with a _missile_."

"Ooo. Sam _definitely_ wins this one, Steve," she smiled.

"Thank you!" Sam nodded in her direction while giving a winning gesture with his arms.

"Would you be free Saturday night for dinner?" Steve asked her.

They only had a few moments earlier before Sam arrived to chat so she knew that Steve wanted to meet up to talk again.

"Sure. How about you come to my place, though? I'll cook us something instead of a noisy restaurant. Say six o'clock?" she offered.

"Sounds great," Steve answered at her suggestion.

"I'll text you my address. It was nice meeting you, Sam. And Steve, don't torture Sam...too much," Star laughingly requested.

"Not any more than I normally would," he smiled back at her while Sam threw his hands into the air in mock annoyance.

As she walked away, Star began to think about work, wondering if she would finally get the phone call she had been waiting for. Hopefully something would come from Alan, her contact from the Bureau who had been established for some time now inside of O'Connell's organization. They had managed to raid a few of their shipments, but she knew that many more made it past them. To be able to bring that family down after so long, especially after what they had done to her, she could finally retire knowing she had truly gotten a bit of revenge on them.

* * *

"So, you just _happen_ to have a _new friend_ who is an F.B.I. agent, and you are _not_ the least bit _suspicious_ of her _true intentions_?" Sam asked him as they both normally jogged back towards the edge of the park where they would split to head to their separate ways home.

"I know _exactly_ what Lucy's _true intentions_ are," he told Sam with a sly smile, which of course got him a raised eyebrow. "You can trust her."

" _Sure_. Because there is _no way_ that she is a Hydra sleeper agent or really trying to get information on your best buddy so she can bring him in and make a name for herself," Sam sarcastically mocked him, bringing a smile to Steve's face.

"See, I knew that you understood," he joked back, putting on just a bit of speed.

"Oh, come on!" Sam yelled at his back.

He had wondered if Star would tell Sam about the true nature of their friendship…mainly that she knew Bucky and how she did. She had spent thirty frightened years of keeping quiet and not trusting, so he should not be surprised that it would take more than just one meeting for her to trust Sam, even with his assurances. Steve was sure that once she was more comfortable around Sam that she would tell him.

* * *

Ringing the doorbell to the townhouse, Steve looked around the neighborhood, checking the darkest shadowy alleyways for a familiar silver glint.

Nothing.

Turning back around as the door opened, he saw that Star had caught him looking.

"He's not there," she told him with an amused smile.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked stepping inside as she moved out of the way for him to enter.

His eyes instantly went to Star's long hair which was flowing free down her back, not braided like the last times they had met at the park or at lunch. She was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a simple t-shirt, much more casual than the work or jogging outfits he had seen. They had been talking on the phone every few days for the past two weeks since their first meeting. She had a strange sense of humor that he liked and wondered if that was one of the things about her that had drawn Bucky to her.

"Scary never knew my real name, remember? There would be no way for him to even find me if he wanted to," she told him as she closed the door. "But considering what the Chair did to him, I somehow doubt that he does remember."

"There is always a chance," he told her as she led him inside her place.

"Wish in one hand, shit in the other, and see which gets filled first," Star told him as they walked through the large open floor plan towards the kitchen island. He shook his head and smiled at her comment. He liked her bluntness.

Steve had noticed the wonderful aroma the moment the door had opened, but now standing at the kitchen island, it was overwhelming.

"Nothing like keeping an open mind," he responded.

"I still have an open mind, otherwise I never would have come to meet you in the first place," Star told him, handing Steve a beer from the refrigerator and taking one for herself. She gestured to one of the bar stools so he sat down.

"You didn't want to let Sam in on who our mutual friend was?" he asked her, popping off the cap of the beer.

"Trust is not something easily come by for me," she admitted to him checking something in a large electric pot on the countertop. "Between Scary's lessons and then working for the Bureau, it was pretty well drilled into me to be suspicious of everyone."

"Except me?" he responded questioningly, taking a look around the large open living space. The entire floor plan was open, front to back. Nowhere for anyone to hide, he noticed.

"I've been researching both of you for thirty years so I was _pretty confident_ that _you_ could be trusted," she saluted him with her beer bottle. "I just never expected to _meet_ you. You know, until the world found out about the whole frozen-in-time thing you had going."

"Trust me when I say that it was a bit of a shock to me as well," he smiled taking another sip. "I'm still trying to adjust to getting back into society."

"I know a bit about how hard it was for you," she said checking the timer on the oven.

"But you _can_ also trust Sam and Natasha," he told her, to which she only nodded but probably had no intention of doing so. "They both helped to take down Hydra."

"But that does not mean that they are on Scary's side," she pointed out. "If he showed up tomorrow, what would they do? Welcome him with open arms, or call whichever security agency they have on speed dial nowadays?"

Steve wanted to give some kind of rebuttal, but he had actually wondered about that sometimes himself as he stared from his darkened apartment onto the streets below...hoping to spot Bucky. Sam was helping to try to find a trace of where Bucky had disappeared to. Nat was taking what she called 'a break', lying low herself somewhere now that the hearings were over but always there when he called.

Would either one of them _really_ try to turn Bucky in for what he had been made to do for all those years of working for Hydra?

He hoped that his friends would not.

"I _think_ that they would both take my side," he told her. "Sam _is_ trying to help me find him."

"Do you think that _Scary_ would tell me to trust them?"

Steve thought for a second then gave a chuckled answer of, "No."

"See…now was that so hard?" she smiled at him.

"You know, you can call him Bucky."

"And you can call him Scary."

"Touché."

Star then lifted up the large ceramic dish from inside the crock-pot on the counter, carrying it over and placing it on a trivet on the dinner table. Their places were already set to eat.

"Come on, I'm not going to make you wait," Star told him so he got up and sat at the table.

Steve found himself inhaling deeply of the homemade roast with vegetables as he sat down.

"I figured that you were just like Scary…a meat and potatoes man," she told him, handing him a large serving spoon and fork to use. "Fix your plate while I get the bread out of the oven."

"That would not be proper," he informed her. "Ladies first."

"Don't pull that bullshit with me," she told him opening the oven and pulling of fresh bread. "You are practically _drooling_."

"Will you _shoot_ me if I at least fix your plate for you?" he jokingly asked as she moved to the fridge.

"I think I can restrain myself," Star pulled out a small dish with butter. "So, I'm guessing that since you were still glancing around that there has been no word?"

"No," he told her as he fixed her plate. "It's like he just entirely dropped off the face of the planet…again."

"From what I learned over the years, that's exactly what he was trained to do...hide in plain sight. Blend in with a crowd and don't leave evidence he was there," she said slicing up the bread. "I don't think he will be found until he _wants_ to be."

"I had hoped that he would have contacted me within days after remembering me, but by now, there is no telling where Bucky could have gotten to," he said as Star brought over a plate of bread with the butter while he fixed his plate.

"As long as he is actually out there, free," she told him sitting down. "Are you still _sure_ that Scary's free?"

"Yes, as much as I can be. There was a place here in D.C., inside of a bank vault, where Hydra had set up the Chair to use on him. We found the location about a week after the incident. It had been smashed to pieces and there were a couple of dead Hydra agents there," he decided to tell her. He had held off revealing this part until he was just a bit more certain about Star. "I believe that Bucky went back there after pulling me from the river. I'm not sure if he wanted help from them for his injuries and they tried to control him again or maybe he was just angry at them for the past seventy years. But either way, I'm sure that it was him."

"Good," Star calmly said, not fazed by the fact that Bucky would have done something like that. She must had seen the shock on his face at her candor. "Considering what they've done to him for so long, killing a couple of Hydra agents is nothing. Besides, there is not a lot in this world to surprise me, and there is _nothing_ that Scary could ever do to make me fear him."

"I guess with everything that you have been through, that's true enough," he said taking a bit of the tender meat that fell apart in his mouth. Moaning in pleasure, "This is delicious."

"Like I said, a meat and potato man," she responded taking her own bite.

For the next half hour, they chatted about what he had gone through after first waking up from the frozen state he had been in, Star curious about how he had handled the new technology.

"I was only gone for four years, but when I got back home, it seemed more like a lifetime," she told him. "Television, music, clothing, hairstyles, video games. All of it was brand new again."

"Exactly. Almost everything electronic invented past houselights and refrigerators was new for me since we couldn't afford them at the time," he told her as she picked up their plates, taking them to the sink. Standing up, he followed her with the rest of the dishes. "I think that the clothing and music were the biggest things right after television. Except for maybe women's lib and the clothes that came with it."

"I can imagine," she grinned at him, as she took the dirty items from him. "I remember mentioning to Scary about women burning their bras and his comment was something like 'wouldn't that hurt'. I had to explain to him that they weren't _wearing_ them at the time."

Steve had to laugh at hearing that.

"He didn't?"

"Oh, yes. There were a lot of times like that where I had to explain the meaning about a saying or phrase I would use," Star told him as she started to wash the plates by hand. "I think that most of them were probably movie or television related though."

"If you said them now, there's a very good chance that I would not get them either," he pointed out.

"You two are definitely peas from the same pod," she said, handing him a clean plate to dry off. Picking up the dishtowel, Steve just started to work next to her. Nodding her head at what he was doing, she said, "I eventually had Scary doing that."

"You made the Winter Soldier dry dishes?"

"Yep. After a few days, but before we had gotten close, he brought something over for me to wash after I had already finished. So I pointed to the sink and told him to do it…and he did."

Steve shook his head in disbelief.

"I sometimes wonder if he was just so used to having to take orders that he just naturally followed my simple instructions," she said handing him the other plate.

"There is that possibility, but if he didn't want to, then he would not have," he said.

"Was he stubborn when the two of you were young?" Star asked.

"I don't know if stubborn is the right word. Bucky would _probably_ say that about _me_ though," he said stacking the plates on the counter as he took the clean silverware from her. "He was definitely confident and bossy."

"Then he still was," she told him. "When he started me with the training during the last few days, he would have me doing the same maneuver over and over even after I seemed to have gotten it down. Like he was trying to drill it into me."

"That may have been a bit of his own training coming through. He was using techniques that were used on him to train you maybe," he said. "Natasha found some of his records from what happened to him. They basically took the soldier that he already was and took away everything else not necessary for him to be one."

Star seemed to be thinking about something, probably a memory of their time. Steve kept working until she was ready to speak.

"There were so many simple things that Scary had no understanding of. Did the two of you every used to dip cheese sandwiches into tomato soup?" she asked.

"All the time," he told her, curious about the question.

"When I did it for the first time, he questioned me about it before hesitantly trying it himself," she told him. "After that, he always did it."

"He didn't even remember such a simple thing?" Steve asked a bit heartbroken.

"No. I'm guessing that he'd had cola before, right?" she then asked, washing the large cooking pot.

"Yeah, from the local soda fountain," he answered.

"He didn't recognize the sodas we had for what they were. And when I made popcorn, he asked me why I was 'cooking bullets'."

Steve had not believe that the Chair was so effective, but from hearing everything that Star knew about, the horrible device was even worse than he had originally imagined.

"Did it really seem to you like every day normal activities were…missing?" Steve asked as they finished up with the last items.

"Yes. It did," she told him, pointing towards where the den met up with her kitchen. Moving that way, they both sat on the couch in front of her mounted television, at opposite ends. "One of the first mornings, I was brushing my hair and he questioned me as to why I would do it. I then realized that he hadn't done anything like brushing his hair at all. His long hair was always flopped over his face. He then allowed me brush it and that was the first time I got a good look at his face. I've always wondered why he sat there and let me."

Steve felt another small piece of his heart break at hearing that.

"Bucky was always so careful with his appearance. Not a single hair out of place. In street clothes or especially his uniform, he was dapper. Always ready to charm a dame," he told her with a smile. "Sometimes he would have a dame on each arm."

"I've seen a couple of pictures of him on the internet and in the museum where he looked like that…but it just doesn't seem right to me, having known him when I did. Even so, I think that anyone who didn't know him well would recognize him," she told him. "I remember this one short clip of the two of you laughing at something. By the end of our time together, I saw Scary happy, but it still wasn't like that."

"I know that video. Do you know that I cannot actually remember what we were laughing at? We had just gotten back from a mission and the Commandos were there taunting us from the background while the reporter talked with us, but what actually started us laughing…I can't remember."

"Was Scary a funny guy? The first joke I heard him make was about food," she told him. "I asked him if he wanted more or less eggs to eat, and he said to always ' _err_ on the side of more food'."

Steve laughed at that.

"Yes, he was always a joker or kidder, even if the moment didn't call for it. The only time he saw Red Skull, who trust me when I say was aptly named, Bucky asked me if I had 'one of those', joking about his bright red head, due to the serum in me. And we were in the middle of a factory that was exploding. I believe the term is 'dry humor'."

"I would like to have known him like that. Near the end, he would take to teasing me every once in a while, but I'm sure that it was much less subdued than how you remember him to be," she told him leaning over to pick up a metal tin from the coffee table. Opening up the top, he saw small pieces of powdered colorful items. "This was his favorite…Turkish Delight. There was not anything else sweet there. I always make sure that I have some around now."

Star held out the tin and he took a piece, placing it in his mouth as she got her own piece, placing the open tin between them on the couch. It was a delicious, chewy, fruity treat.

"This is good. I can see why he liked it," he said chewing. He had noticed that Star was again wearing the bracelet with Bucky's reminder items, and he hoped that she didn't get mad at him, but he had a few questions for her. "Star…your palm. I noticed it that first day in the park. Would you tell me about it?"

Star was leaning her left side against the back of the couch, so she held her left arm out towards him, her palm up, before scooting a bit closer where he could make it out better.

"The man who owned me was named Yury Kozlov. Those are his initials on my palm…palms," she said lifting up her other hand so he could see the matching scars. "On one of the nights he was drunk, he did this to me. The funny part about these scars is that he did this to frighten me, telling me that his 'ghost' soldier liked to do this for fun. This Ghost also went by the name Winter Soldier."

That really got his attention. Did Bucky…?

"When Scary saw them, he actually got mad that Kozlov had threatened me by using his name," which made Steve feel a bit better.

Over the next few minutes, he sat and listed to how Star told him in detail about how she had found out that Bucky was the Winter Soldier. He was a bit surprised that with the obedience Bucky had for Hydra that when Star ran away that morning that he didn't kill her right then. But hearing how he had carried her back to the house, and then took care of her feet and hands… _that_ sounded so much like his best friend.

"A little while later, once I was cleaned up, that was the first time that he showed my his arm," she told him.

"I had a pretty up close experience with it also," he grinned, remembering it all too well. Star knew a bit about how he and Bucky had faced off that day having discussed it during a lunch they had together.

"I'm sure that _mine_ was a lot more _fun_ ," she deviously grinned at him, raising her eyebrow, making him blush a bit at the innuendo. "Have you ever seen the movie _Jaws_?"

"Yes, actually. It was on my list of movies to see," he told her happy that he actually knew it.

"Remember the scene where they were showing off scars?" to which he nodded. "Well, I had asked Scary if he had any scars after he had seen the ones on my hands, and when he said 'yes', I asked to see. He took his shirt off and showed me his arm. Up until then, he'd always kept it covered, wearing his gloves all of the time, even inside of the house."

"Weren't you scared?" he asked, not sure if he would have done something like that.

"No, not really. I'd heard it make the sound a few times, not realizing what I was hearing. He let me touch it, examine it slowly so that I would not be scared of him. Afterwards, I pointed out to him that I had won since I had more scars and he only had the one."

"You didn't?"

Star smiled at him nodding her head.

"I think that may have been the first time I heard him give a simple, single laugh," she told him.

Steve noticed her wording when it came to her scars.

Hesitantly he asked, "Do you have a lot of scars?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But without every single one of them, I may never have been there that day to meet Scary," she told him. "Over that week, every time that he saw a new one, or something happened that reminded me of Kozlov, Scary would want to hear the story behind it."

"And you told him?"

"Yes. There was no point in sugarcoating what I'd been through. Maybe hearing about all of it was what made him to feel sorry for me, so that he let me live," she said grabbing another piece of the sweet treat.

"I have a feeling that it was more than just feeling sorry for you," he told her, hoping that he was right. Steve could see the doubt on her face. "I knew Bucky better than anyone else, then or now. From what you told me of how he acted those last days, and especially what he said, even if he didn't understand what it was, I think that Bucky was in love with you too."

"Great," she said as he saw her eyes slightly tearing, " _That_ makes it even worse."

"Star, I didn't mean to upset you," he told her, but she waved her hand to stop him.

"I'm fine. I've had thirty years to miss him. It's the fact that if he really was in love with me, that not only did Hydra _ripped_ it away from him…but that he _let_ them."

"To keep you _safe_. If he did truly _care_ for you…"

"Then he should have _run_!" Star painfully cried out. "He _knew_ what was going to happen when he got back! Why wasn't I important enough?"

When Star stood up to try and went to walk past him, Steve quickly stood up, grabbing onto her upper arm to stop her. She stopped, but her head was turned away, where he could not see if her tears were actually falling, but he guessed they were. Turning her slightly, he gave her a firm embrace.

After a few moments, Star's arms went around him as he felt her crying.

"Alright," she quietly said, "Maybe I'm not fine."

Standing there like that, even though Star may now be a grown woman and F.B.I. agent, underneath she was still a hurt, lovesick little girl. With his arms around her, he could feel her long hair against his skin, a smooth feeling he was unfamiliar with.

"Sorry. I haven't spazzed out in a while," she told him, sniffling and easing up her grip around him. "Not the best dinner party etiquette."

"It's your house. You can do whatever you want," he grinned at her. "And you _were_ important enough. _Scary_ may have understood the danger of trying to run, but it was _Bucky_ that would never have let anything happen to you. That was why he went back. Hydra would have killed you on sight to get him back if he had run."

Releasing her, Star this time slowly made her way to the kitchen, grabbing two more beers from the fridge. She passed him one before sitting back down, to which he did also.

"I know you're probably right, all that ' _heart one thing, head another thing'_ bullshit that people say. It's still painful though," she told him popping the cap off and taking a long swig.

"I don't think that it ever gets totally healed," he told her, taking his own drink. Maybe he need to bring up a lighter topic. "Star. Can I ask about your hair? Why do you have it so long?"

Star began to laugh at that, making him hope that this would indeed be a better memory for her. After a few moments, she answered, "Because of Scary."

Hearing that, Steve felt his shoulders drop a bit. He was not expecting that.

"When I was taken in 1978, a popular hairstyle was long and straight. Kozlov liked it that way because he was able to help use it to restrain me with rope tied around it," Steve about paled at hearing that, almost picturing what horrible thing she could mean. "When I met Scary it was about this long, only a couple of inches shorter. After it irritated me one day, I grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer, saying aloud that I was going to cut it all off. Scary grabbed my arms, stopping me. He then asked me to not cut it. I don't think he even understood why he stopped me. But I figured at the time since I would be dead in only a few days, that I would just leave it since he asked."

How could Star sound so calm and collected while discussing what should have been her execution? By his best friend. But it had not happened. She had fallen for Bucky, he had let her live, and she'd had decades to think and reminisce with what happened. It wasn't the same horrible scenario now that it had been then. To Star, it was now a fond memory of her Scary trying to show some desire towards her.

"You've kept it that long for over thirty years because Bucky liked it like that?" Steve could barely believe it.

"Yes. It's been a nagging fear in the back of my mind that if I cut it, and Scary passed me on the street, that he would not recognize me without it," she told him while he picked up another Turkish Delight.

"And here I thought I had found a topic that would make you feel better," he informed her, taking a drink.

"You did, actually," she said. "I was going to cut it because it got in my way as I was trying to irritate Scary on purpose. I had it wrapped in a towel on my wet head, and as I was poking him in the chest, it fell down, covering me like Cousin It."

"Cousin It?" he asked, not getting the reference.

"A character from an old black and white TV show called _The Addams Family_ ," Star explained.

"So why _exactly_ were you _poking_ at him?" he decided to ask.

"Scary had snuck a couple of pieces," she started picking up some of the Turkish Delight indicating them, "and eaten them. Only he left some of the powdered sugar on his upper lip. I was teasing him about _only_ being an assassin, not a spy, and therefore not sneaky."

Steve had to laugh again at picturing the interaction between how he had dealt with the Winter Solider compared to Star's version of him.

"Well, seeing as how we haven't been able to find a trace of him in almost three months, I think he's proving your 'sneaky' theory wrong," he told her with a smile.

Lifting up her beer bottle, Star told him, "Here's to Scary losing the longest game of Hide-and-Seek ever."

"I can drink to that," he said as they clicked bottle tops.


	45. Bucky Makes Up His Mind

**Song: _Something That I Can Never Have_ by Nine Inch Nails**

* * *

**Mid-July  
Four Days After The Diner**

The run-down motel room was entirely dark. Not because it was nighttime. In fact, it was probably about noon, he guessed. But he needed the darkness. That was when the nightmares came to him. Now, he desperately wanted to remember them. This time, on purpose. Everything else that had come back to him over the past four months had either been triggered by a picture or historical account of the war he had read.

But now, Bucky needed to remember something…

Somebody.

He needed to remember Star.

Who was she?

He could see her face…smiling at him.

But that was not right.

All of his targets had looked at him in fear and hatred.

But not Star…at least not all the time.

Slowly, bits and pieces had come to him over the past four days since he had been sitting in the diner. But they still didn't fit. It felt like a jigsaw puzzle without any edges, and only small sections already having been matched.

A laugh here.

Running through a foggy forest.

A smile there.

A cuff on her ankle.

Flowing long hair.

A gunshot echoing.

The red dress.

Sitting at a table eating with her.

Aiming a gun right at her bare chest as she cried.

Every single one of them brought on pain…not just the pain in his chest, but a sharp stabbing pain in his head.

No other memories he had recalled did that, so why did Star's?

The most frightening memory was a single phrase that had returned, spoken and thought numerous times…over and over…

_Finish the mission_

What had he done to her?

Sitting on the edge of the bed with his head held in his hands, he felt like screaming until his mind finally released its hold on the memories he desperately wanted.

But what would he find when they _did_ return?

He became deafened as the motel shook from the vibration caused by thunder due to the torrential rain that sounded like static to his ears. Standing up, he swept open the blackout curtains and stared at the dark grey sky as the hard rain pounded down.

Rain.

Closing his eyes, his mind painfully pulsed as he saw Star standing over graves as the cold rain fell on the two of them in the middle of the woods.

 _/…"No, this is where I was supposed to end up!" Star yelled at him,_  
sweeping her arm in the direction of the other three small graves.  
"Hell, in what, one, two, three days or so, I am going to end up here, right?  
It's as good a place as any to finish your mission!  
Now, you tell me what I want to know!"…/

Star had known that he was going to kill her? With days until it would actually happen? Why would a target have known that?

She had been so small and frail. Why did she need to die? What had she known that Hydra needed gone?

What had he done to her?

The same as every other mission…he had killed her.

Bucky gripped his throbbing head and collapsed onto his knees before the windows as the rain continued to pour down, matching the tears on his face.

* * *

**Hours Later**

Later that night, Bucky stared at the backpack sitting on the single chair in the room, holding all of his meager possession in. Mostly his notebooks, but also spare loaded magazines and extra ammo for his guns in case Hydra found him. He was _not_ going back. He knew now that he should _never_ have been there to begin with.

Steve, the Howling Commandos…and him. They had fought against Hydra.

Then the train had happened.

The scattered memories after that contained nothing happy.

Being a prisoner for months…years?

Torture.

So many medical procedures.

Training.

Indoctrination.

Compliance.

The Chair.

The killings.

But then, in the middle of all of that, the soft smile of Star appears.

And he needed answers.

He needed to know who she was...what that mission was…what he had done…even if it was horrible…just like all the other mission he had remembered so far.

And there was only one place that he was going to get answers from.

Steve.

He needed to get to Steve. The Punk had someone keep all of his files off of the internet. Inside of them would be the answers that he needed. And the only way to get them was to return to D.C.

And Steve.

Bucky had no doubt that Steve was looking for him. The Punk was the most stubborn individual he had ever met. Paramus? Only Steve would keep trying to actually enlist to join a war where he was sure to get killed minutes after stepping off the damn boat. He had already been considering trying to contact Steve, to see if Hydra was disbanded. So far, nobody had caught up with him. Were they really gone? Because if they weren't then he had left Steve alone to pay the price of his betrayal for running. Now, he had an additional reason to contact him.

He needed to work this out logically. There was no way to just make himself remember every single detail of Star, especially with the headaches that it caused. He needed this mission report. It would be like the other times when he saw or read something that brought back his past. If he read the report, maybe the memories wouldn't hurt anymore.

But how was he going to explain that he needed help to find out about a victim of his. No…Steve didn't need to deal with what he had done. He didn't want Steve to know about what he had done. There was a chance he had probably read the files already, but Bucky would _not_ discuss them with Steve.

Bucky made up his mind. Actually, he had _already_ made up his mind by packing the bag. It was finding the _courage_ to face what may come that he needed.

He was already so close to Jacksonville where he had planned to find work on a container ship to get to anywhere in Europe. But now, his destination was going to be Baltimore. The closest port to Washington. Where Steve and the mission reports were.

Picking up his backpack, he walked out of the door.

* * *

Star was still stewing a bit as she and Sam were on their morning jog. She had sat down with Natasha yesterday after talking with Steve earlier in the week and finding out that not all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s and Hydra's files had made it to the internet. The F.B.I. had already been going through them to find connections to ongoing cases. But hearing that there was possibly more, she had asked Steve for the favor of going through those to look for connections with her work. He agreed and requested Natasha to come over to his place so that the two of them could go through the ones she had pulled before being decoded.

After talking with Natasha for a bit after explaining exactly what she had been hoping to find, she had told her a bit of her history dealing with Kozlov. She had seen Natasha notice the scars on her hands so there was no point in trying to hide too much. The only thing that she left out was Scary. She did tell her about Kozlov's connection with Hydra, but kept the name Star and Scary out of their talk. There was no reason for Natasha to even consider that she would have ever met the Winter Soldier and if she did, Nat never mentioned it.

They had searched the files together but found nothing to help her. She had been hoping that there was something in them linking Hydra and the O'Connell family, then S.H.I.E.L.D. may be able to get involved. With their 'connections' thanks to sex, bribes, and blackmail, the O'Connells had managed for years to thwart every attempt to bring them down. Star already knew that Kozlov had used them to at least purchase her, so there was a chance that maybe there was a file linking them since Scary's files had been pulled. But unfortunately it turned out that Kozlov's mission file was not one of the redacted files. The ones Natasha had went back only about twenty years. The file she needed would have needed would be older so it was probably still on paper somewhere else.

Reading about some of the missions that Scary had been sent on after they had met had been hard at first. But after talking with Steve about him, she knew that if Hydra hadn't been manipulating his mind that he would never have done any of what she had read about. Now that he was free of them she hoped that he didn't remember them too much. If he did, he was going to have a hard time dealing with them. Especially the kids…

After going through the files, she and Nat had started talking while Steve headed out to grab them some lunch. Natasha had been very curious as to what she had gone through, having heard a bit from Steve as he vouched for her to be able to go through the files, so she had been very open with her tale. When Nat had carefully asked if she had ever gotten pregnant, Star had admitted to what had been done to her. Hearing that, she then learned that Natasha had a similar procedure, but that she had 'volunteered' since refusing would mean her death. They found it a strange connection but they did trust each other a bit more by the time she had left Steve's. Nat had even told her that when they both got back into town that they should meet up for lunch. Star had happily agreed.

Now with that hope of a connection dashed, she was only left with the possibility that Alan would make contact with her before stepping on her flight tomorrow morning. She knew that there were weekly container ships arriving at the Baltimore port but not all of them would have human cargo. Hopefully he would contact her again after learning which ship they needed to be ready for.

"How are you going to stand to be gone for a week without this humiliation?" Sam asked her after Steve passed them yet again, pulling her from the thoughts of work.

"Oh, I'm sure that I'll find _something_ in Savannah to humiliate me," Star joked as they jogged on, getting a strange sideways glace from him at the comment.

Over the past month, she had gotten to know Sam and found him genuinely likeable. But giving out the details of her past, doing so always created a shadow on a friendship. Natasha had seen a lot of bad things so Star felt a bit more comfortable talking with her. But she had not given Sam any real substantial information about her past. Maybe after a while she would tell Sam a bit more. If she had met him thirty years ago, knowing the work he did at the V.A., she would have probably requested him as a counselor. The few she had been _forced_ to go to were not that understanding due to the strangeness of her life. That was why he wouldn't understand the distant relationship she had with her mother.

"So whose birthday was it again?" Sam asked as they turned up the trail.

"Sara, my grandniece," she told him. "She's turning seven."

"She must mean a lot for you to go make the trip for her birthday," he said.

"Sara and her parents came to town when she was four and spent a couple of days with me. We went to museums together, but I took her with me to Quantico one day so her parents could have some alone time. Sara loved the obstacle course, saying it was like a giant playground. After that, she said that she wanted to be in the F.B.I. also."

Sam laughed a bit at hearing that and she knew exactly why.

"Sara has no idea what all goes into being an Agent, she just wants to play on the obstacle course," he happily told her.

"I know. But there's no way I'm going to break her fantasy at such a young age," she pointed out. Star then told him with a large smile, "Besides, it makes me her favorite relative."

"That's always a benefit," he grinned back.

They continued on for a couple of minutes until Steve finally passed them again while they were next to the reflecting pool, giving them his standard ' _on your left'_.

Star then asked Sam jerking her thumb towards the water, "Think he'd be mad if we pushed him in one time?"

"You don't know how _many_ times I've wondered the _same_ thing."

* * *

**A Few Days Later**

The fact that he had been following Steve around for three days without being spotted irritated him beyond belief. How could the Punk not pay attention to his surroundings like that? Granted, he knew how good he was at surveilling targets, but Steve did not even seem to be looking for a tail. The most that he did was glance down alleyways or towards rooftops every so often, but that was not enough. There was no telling who may go after him for spilling Hydra's dirty secrets onto the internet.

There were places that were harder to follow him, like when he visited the V.A. hospital and inside stores. Following him on his morning runs was also not feasible. Steve ran much faster than a normal person, and Bucky knew that he could keep up, which was exactly the problem. There was no way that Steve wouldn't notice him. So he watched him leave around sunrise and return later, barely looking like he had broken a sweat.

Luckily, Bucky had not spotted anyone else actually following Steve, which was a good thing. Was there a reason that nobody was following Steve? Was there no one left to follow him? Had he really taken down Hydra? Was Steve actually safe living the normal life he seemed to be doing? Would it really be safe to contact him for the files?

Bucky was going to take that chance and find out today.

* * *

Walking up the steps to his apartment, Steve held all of the bags of groceries on one arm as he opened the door with the other. Stepping inside of the small communal foyer, he pulled his keys from his pants pockets, flipping them until he got to his mailbox one. Opening up the small metal door, he glared inside at the object that should not be there.

A cheap flip cellphone.

Glancing around, he saw nothing else out of place, no one else visible out on the street.

Nothing.

Picking it up, he stared at the item in his hand for a few seconds before it rang, startling him. Taking a step towards the glass front door, he flipped it open.

"Hello?"

There was nothing but silence on the other end, but he could hear calm, steady breathing. He was instantly flooded with a feeling of hope.

"Bucky!?"

A few moments longer than necessary passed with no response. Reaching down, he put the grocery bags on the floor of the foyer. Steve opened the door back up and stepped out onto the stoop, looking around the area, trying to spot anyone that could be him.

"Bucky. I _know_ that you can see me since you knew when to call. Please say something."

" _Punk_."

Steve dropped his arm holding the phone away from his head, staring at it and shaking his head with a smile.

Placing it back to his ear, "Its been seventy years, and that's the first real thing that you say to me?"

He heard the slight chuckle on the other end.

" _Would you prefer 'mission'_?" Bucky asked with the familiar dry humor he used to have.

"Jerk," he responded with a smile still searching the area for him.

" _You are not going to find me_ ," he said flatly.

"How do you know?" Steve asked peering towards a dark alleyway.

" _Because if you knew what to look for, you would have spotted me days ago_ ," he told him.

Steve couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bucky had been following him for days? And he never noticed a sign?

"Fine. Then just get over here so we can talk," he said.

There was no response from him.

"You will be safe with me. I promise," Steve told him, still searching even if Bucky said it was pointless.

" _You **don't** know that_," he finally said.

"Yes. I do," Steve answered. "Between what happened months ago and working with the Avengers since, we have taken down a _significant_ portion of Hydra. There is no one left strong enough to take on the two of us when we are _together_."

After a few moments, he heard, " _Just like old times_."

"Please. Have you been on the run, moving around for the past four months?" he asked.

" _Yes_."

"Have you had anything troubling happen?" Steve then asked, hoping that he had been right about Hydra not being able to go after Bucky. But for some reason, there was no answer from him. The silent omission worried him a bit. Had he been wrong about Hydra? "Bucky, has someone tried to come after you?"

" _No_."

That made him feel a bit better, but then what was the strange silence? Taking his wording of the question into account, he then figured it out.

"Are you still having trouble remembering?"

" _Yes_."

"Then being with me would be the best solution. If you didn't want something, then you would not have contacted me," he pointed out.

" _I needs my mission files_."

"That's it? That's all you want?"

" _It's not safe to be around me_."

"Bucky, you don't have to worry about Hydra anymore. They cannot hurt you anymore. You destroyed the Chair. They cannot take your memories again," he explained to him, hoping that Bucky listened. "Please. If anything happens, we will deal with it together. Don't make this the end of the line."

There was silence on the line for a couple of long moments.

Then the call disconnected.

Steve looked desperately around, somehow hoping to spot him walking away, but there was nothing. He stood on the stoop for a few minutes, hoping that the phone in his hand would ring again, but it never did.

Slipping it into his pants pocket, Steve opened the door back up, grabbed his groceries, and headed up to his apartment.

Unlocking his door, Steve shut it behind him, but this time he did not lock it.

Walking into the kitchen, he placed the burner phone onto the counter as he placed the grocery bags next to it. As he went about putting away the items, he kept glancing at it, wishing for it to ring again. He knew that it would be pointless to try and call Bucky. If he had wanted to talk more, he wouldn't have hung up. He may have already tossed his own phone away.

A few short hours later, Steve was back in the kitchen, this time preparing to start dinner. The phone had remained silent the entire time. Grabbing the ingredients he would need for spaghetti, he made the quick decision to double the amount he would normally cook for only himself. As he listened to the record playing some jazz music in the background, he went about getting everything ready for dinnertime.

Steve had decided to hold off on calling Sam, Natasha, or Star since he hoped that Bucky was still watching him and he didn't want to scare him away by thinking he was calling in someone to help track him down. It was more important to keep Bucky around. He figured that eventually he would let them know that Bucky had contacted him, but not right now with the little bit of news he had. A single short call.

Instead, once the items were ready, Steve began to fix two plates of spaghetti topped with a thick meat sauce. Opening up the beeping stove, he pulled out the rolls that now came fresh from a can. Another strange, but interesting modern invention. Canned dough. Grabbing a straw basket from a cabinet, he piled them into it, then placed it onto the kitchen table. Moving back to the counter, he took the two prepared bowls and put them on the table. One at his normal spot, the other just across from him. Heading to the fridge, he grabbed two beer bottles and put them down next to the bowls.

Steve really hoped that this worked.

Sitting at the table, not doing anything but checking his watch for the next couple of minutes, he waited. It crossed his mind that he was trying to bait the Winter Solider with food and beer, giving a simple laugh at his own mental joke. But he thought that Star would be proud of this idea. Just when he was about to give up and start to eat, thinking that it was not going to work, Steve heard the sound of his front door's lock gently engaging. There had been no sound of it opening or closing.

Forcing himself to stay seated, he calmly turned his head to the left towards the small hallway where the single quick noise had come from.

After a few long seconds, a very dirty and disheveled Bucky slowly stepped out from behind the wall, and walked directly over to the chair where his dinner was starting to get cold.

Without a word between them, Bucky sat down, picked up his fork and began to eat.

Giving a large smile, Steve picked up his own fork and followed suit.

* * *

As Steve stood up from the table with his empty plate, Bucky glanced around the small apartment at the windows. He had already closed the blind at the front door which he had used to target in on Fury's position, but there were more that needed to be dealt with. When he heard Steve turning the sink on, he stood up and began to go about closing down the area from prying eyes.

After he was satisfied with the windows, he then made a quick sweep for listening devices which he knew that Hydra had placed in here months ago. He was relieved when none could be found where he knew they should be.

"Natasha does a sweep of my place every time she comes over," he heard from the kitchen as he came from the bedroom. Steve had figured out what he was doing.

"That just means that she doesn't leave any behind that aren't her own," Bucky told him moving to sit back in the chair so his back was to the wall, looking at where Steve was washing dishes and pots.

"I can't tell if you're serious or just using your normal dry sense of humor," Steve said coming over to pick up Bucky's plate.

"Let's go with serious," he deadpanned.

"Fine," Steve was now back at the sink, taking quick glances his way as if to make sure that he was not going to disappear. "Is your arm better?"

Bucky rolled his right shoulder just a bit, hating to be reminded of the fight from the Helicarrier. And what he had done to Steve. Hell, he had almost killed the Punk.

"Yes. I reset it."

Steve really glanced his way then, as he probably took the explanation for what it was. That Bucky had to deal with anything that had happened for the past four months alone. There had been nobody there for him that he trusted…or knew.

"You could have stayed," Steve sounded a bit hesitant, "there on the riverbank with me. We would have helped you."

"No, you wouldn't have," he told him with certainty. "Whatever authority took over after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell would have thrown me into a prison cell and I would never have seen daylight again. And it's still probably going to happen."

"No, it's not," now Steve sounded certain. "I will _never_ let that happen to you."

"Stubborn as always," he told him, which brought a smile to Steve's face.

"Well, Erskine did say that the serum only increased what was already there," he joked.

"If _only_ he'd _known_ ," Bucky joked, taking a drink from the beer bottle. "So, thanks for dinner, give me my mission files, and I'll be out your hair."

"Bucky, you are not going anywhere," Steve told him. Giving him a good looking over, he then said, "Actually, the only place you _will be going_ is the bathroom to get cleaned up. When was the last time that you had a decent shower?"

Looking down at himself, he saw that the clothes he had been wearing since arriving in Baltimore almost a week ago were fairly dirty. He had only stayed at one cheap motel during his trip down but it's not like they had laundry service. He had not shaved since before getting onto the ship in Jacksonville. Since arriving in D.C., he had actually been camping out on the rooftop across the way on the highest building around so that nobody would be able to spot him as he watched Steve's activities.

He decided to have a bit of fun with the comment.

"What decade is it?" he deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of Steve.

"Come on," Steve stated, walking past him into his bedroom which had another door leading out to the bathroom. "You are crashing here with me until further notice."

"Listen Punk, that may have worked seventy years ago back in the army, but I'm not letting you out of my sight so that you can call your new friends to come and help you contain me," he informed him standing up while thinking of just giving in to the almost order.

Unfortunately a hot shower sounded _very good_ right now, _especially_ with a _full stomach_.

"I'm not…" Steve started but with the look he gave the Punk, he didn't bother finishing.

" _Fine_! You don't believe me?" Steve asked walking through the other bedroom door into the hall that led from the living room to the bathroom. There was a small drafting table with pencils, pens, and sketchbooks surround it on wall shelves. Just to the right of the table was the bathroom door. Pulling out the chair, Steve sat down in it, crossing his arms, saying, "Then I'll sit right here, without my phone, if that will make you feel better. I'm _not_ going to call anyone… _especially_ someone who would _take you away_. You have to _at least_ believe that!"

Bucky remembered enough to know that Steve would never turn him in, but there was no way he could trust anyone else. If taking a nice hot shower was a possible compromise to helping him get his mission files, he could do that.

A flash of him teasing Steve out in the field during the war about the stage costume he'd had to endure wearing for so long came to mind.

With a small smile, he asked, "Got anything clean to wear that's not covered in cute, little stars?"

Steve gave him a genuine smile at that, knowing exactly what Bucky was doing. He was showing him that his memories were there.

Getting back up, he gathered a complete set of clothes for him to use once he was clean. Handing them off to Bucky, Steve took back up in the chair, grabbed a sketchpad and flipped it open.

Since he was getting his way, Bucky walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower and partially closed the door, leaving enough of an opening so that he could keep an eye on the Punk.

* * *

Glancing to his right for the umpteenth time, Steve could see Bucky's silhouette behind the shower curtain as he just stood under the water. There was a constant layer of steam drifting through the open door into the small hallway he was sitting in. Even having reached inside of the door and turning on the exhaust fan, the hot temperature that Bucky had on him was too much for the small fan. Luckily the building had a massive hot water heater.

Steve had watched as he had washed his hair three times, as if Bucky couldn't get it clean enough. After more than half an hour, the silence of the shower turning off was a bit shocking.

Seeing the silver arm reaching out to take a hold of the bath towel, Steve wondered what the full arm looked like. He had no idea how it connected to the torso, and even Star had not given much of a description.

When Bucky stepped out onto the floor mat with the towel wrapped around his waist, Steve tried to make sure that he was not gawking at it. He saw that it was more than just his arm, from his shoulder to half way across his collarbone was metal. It went a few inches under his arm and came across his chest a bit. Where the metal met flesh, there was a darker red area of scar tissue fanning out to run the entire length of the connection.

But as he moved, Steve was able to see the intricate panels working just as if they were flesh. In fact, the arm was structured to duplicate the muscles from Bucky's right arm in reverse. If he were wearing a long sleeve shirt, nobody would be able to tell the difference.

"That's the worst attempt at trying to _not stare_ that I've seen in a long time," Bucky informed him as he turned around to face Steve.

"Buck, if I'd had any idea that you could have survived that fall, I _never_ would have stopped looking for you," he told him. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I do remember how obstinate you are," he joked back. "Where's your shaving kit?"

"Behind the mirror," he told him.

For the next fifteen minutes, Bucky trimmed away enough of the longer hairs before finally shaving down to the smooth skin that had been hidden beneath. Before stepping away from the sink, he watched as Bucky grabbed the comb and tried to get it through the mop-top mess that was his hair now. After a couple of attempts, it seemed he finally managed to wrangle it into a pushed back style. Not exactly how he used to wear it, but it was the best he could do with the length it was.

As he was dressing, to give him some privacy, Steve headed back to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge, taking them in to the den. Sitting on the couch while Bucky, who was now dressed in a set of his workout clothes, walked past him, he held the bottle out for him to take, which he did.

Bucky joined him on the other end of the couch, and for a few minutes they sat in a strange silence, just drinking.

"The mission files."

"What about them?" Steve asked.

"I need them."

"Why?" Bucky did not seem to want to answer, even though they both knew. "There's no reason to hide it. I'm sure I know. I just want to hear it from you."

Giving a heavy sigh, he answered, "Sometimes I only remember bits and pieces. But if I read about something, it helps to clear away the fog, to bring most of the mission back."

"Is there something in particular you want to remember?" he asked probing but not wanting to force a memory onto him. Again, Bucky seemed very hesitant to answer. "Unfortunately, the mission files that you want are in Natasha's possession. And as far as I know, she is out of town again for at least a week."

He heard Bucky actually grumble under his breath, unhappy at that revelation.

"Why does _she_ have them?" he asked.

"Because they are on a laptop computer she keeps with her. Some of her own files from missions she unknowingly did for Hydra are there. She's trying to make it right," he told him. "She calls it ' _red in her ledger'_ and she's trying to get rid of it."

Bucky then stood up, putting the mostly empty bottle on the coffee table before walking back into the bedroom. Steve quickly got up to see what he was doing. Inside he found Bucky walking with his shoes in his hand towards the bed. Sitting down on it, he started to slip his foot inside.

"What are you doing?" he firmly asked.

"I'll contact you again after a week has passed. Make sure you have the files," Bucky informed him while working on the shoelace.

"Bucky, stop!" he demanded, grabbing onto his right shoulder to make Bucky look at him. "You are not going anywhere!"

With that, Bucky quickly stood while taking a hold of his wrist and turning Steve's body around before pushing him away.

"You don't understand!" Bucky then yelled at him. "It's not safe! _I'm_ not safe! _Nobody_ with me will _ever_ be safe!"

"And I'm telling you that you are _wrong_!" he yelled back at him.

No matter what, if Bucky walked out of that door even without the files, there was a good chance that he would not come back.

"This coming from the person I left as a semi-conscious, bullet filled, bloody pulp on the shoreline," Bucky was shaking his head at him. "Like I said, _nobody_ will ever be safe around me. Hydra will not stop looking for me."

"That's not true, not anymore," Steve wanted to point out.

"I ran! I did not _comply_ with my orders! They will hunt me down and _anyone_ with me will be _killed_!" he told him, seeming to pull from his obedience training. "I have nothing left! Only you, and I almost killed you _twice_! I will _not_ put you in harm's way like that _again_!"

"That was Hydra, not you! What if I told you that it didn't have to be that way? That you can stop running and try to have what passes for a normal life nowadays!"

Bucky actually laughed at him. Steve stood there a bit shocked at the scene.

"I had forgotten how naïve you can be sometimes, Stevie," Bucky finally managed to get out.

"If that's what you really think, then let me _prove_ to you that Hydra is gone and you don't have to live in fear of them anymore. Give me the week, or until whenever Natasha gets back, either sooner or later. Please!" he begged, holding his hands up defensively, not wanting the two of them to get into a physical fight inside of his home. The fact that Bucky seemed to be considering his suggesting gave him hope. "I don't want to lose you a fourth time."

"Four?"

Raising his hand, Steve began to tick off with his fingers, "Azzano, the train, the Helicarrier, and now."

Watching as Bucky dropped his gaze to the floor, he hoped that he was truly considering the request. Steve had no doubts that if he wasn't, that Bucky would have just walked out.

Almost a full minute passed.

"Until Natasha gets back?" Bucky questioned how long to make an agreement for, making Steve's heart pound with hope.

"Yes. At that point, you can do whatever you want and I won't stop you," he explained to him. With a sly smile, Steve added, "Don't leave and take all the stupid with you again."

Bucky returned the smile seeming to remember that talk, telling him that maybe his friend really was still in there, but he could see the hesitation still lingering. He knew that Bucky was worried for him, just as he had been when they were young.

After a bit more time of thinking it over, he finally said, "Agreed."

Steve felt his shoulders ease at knowing that he was not about to lose his friend again. Now, all he had to do was prove to him that he was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I'm going to play around a bit with Bucky's memories when it comes to recalling Star. There is a reason for it that will be explained. And as the story progresses, I think you will like where it leads to. As always, please let me know what you think.
> 
> FYI: re-watching the scene where Bucky shoots Fury, I believe he was using Steve's head's posture to zone in on Fury's location, hence the comment above about closing the blind by the door.


	46. Bucky and Sam Meet Again

**Song: _For You Only_ by Trading Yesterday  
**

* * *

"I should have detailed our agreement a _bit_ _more_ if _this_ is what you expect to happen for a week," Steve grumbled at the lump sitting on the chair in the corner for the second morning in a row.

"Did you _actually_ expect me to go out in _public_?" Bucky sincerely asked him.

"Yes. How else am I supposed to prove to you that you are safe if all you do is sit in that chair and write in your books all day?" he asked him.

"I'm guarding the place," he told him.

"It's not going anywhere," Steve jokingly pointed out. "Come on. There's a change of clothes on my bed for you to wear. You're coming jogging with me."

"No."

"Yes, you are!" Steve sternly informed him.

He needed some way to convince Bucky to get out of his apartment for a while. Yesterday, all he had done was sit in the same chair that Fury had been in moments before its new occupant had shot him through a wall into his chest three times. After a bit of probing, Bucky had finally told him what the books were with as few words as possible. His memory journals.

Thinking of something that might help convince him, "Running will help to clear your head. After I thawed out, I found that running gives me plenty of quiet time to work through problems."

"I've been running for four months," he told him with an old familiar smile.

"Very funny, W.C. Fields. Get up and get changed. _Now_ , _Sergeant_!"

Bucky looked at him a bit funny, probably remembering when he'd pulled the _Captain_ card a few times during the war, but after a few moments he surprised Steve by actually standing and going to get changed.

Glancing around the place, he saw that all of the window shades were still down, as they had been since just after dinner that first night. At bedtime, he had offered Bucky the bed but he had refused, saying that he was going to stay awake for a while. Steve had been worried that he was actually planning on leaving during the night, causing him to wake about five times to keep checking on him. Bucky had moved between the chair and couch a couple of times, but Steve never once found him actually sleeping.

Even last night, he had woken only three times, checking the den each time, finding Bucky sitting in the chair writing or going through other books of his. He looked angry and confused as he wrote, the memories bothering him. Hopefully over the next few days he would be able to get him out of this funk, and maybe even a bit out of his own head. He knew that getting Bucky to do normal activities would help him come to terms with this new freedom that he could have.

Steve had texted Sam to see if he was running this morning and found out he was getting a late start. That actually was a good thing as it turned out. He told Sam to not wait on him but he'd be there. This would be their first meeting since Bucky had kicked him wingless off of the Helicarrier. Sam had read the files and knew what treatments that Bucky had been put through.

Pointing out that all of the injuries caused by their fight was _before_ Steve had been able to pull just enough of a memory to the forefront showed Sam how Bucky had not truly been in control of himself. There was no way Bucky would ever have hurt Steve without the Hydra mind-wipes. The fact that Bucky then pulled him from the river only helped to strengthen his argument that his friend _was_ still in there.

Steve knew that if he informed Bucky that they would eventually lap Sam that he would refuse to even come…or maybe even to let Steve leave the apartment at all. There was also the chance that if he told Sam about his guest, he might get similar results as in him being a no-show. It was a big risk he was taking, but Steve was confident that it would eventually work out.

Since Star was still out of town for her grandniece's birthday, this would give him the opportunity to see how Bucky interacted with someone he met since the last wipe. Maybe ' _met_ ' was not the best way to consider what they did, but ' _previous target_ ' was a bit too real. When it came to Star, Bucky would not let him look through the journals and he was worried what would happen if he just asked about her. Nothing from Bucky so far indicated that he'd had any recollection of her at all.

Bucky stepped from the bedroom wearing the sweatpants, t-shirt, and sneakers, ready for their run. The only thing he had not taken into consideration was that the short sleeves exposed his left arm. Stepping into the foyer area, he took a track jacket from one of the coat hooks mounted to the wall.

"Here, this will cover most of your arm," he told him, tossing the thin summer-weight item to him. Slipping it on, Bucky seemed happier that only his hand was exposed.

"Come on, we got fifteen miles ahead of us," Steve told him grabbing the house key.

"You better be right about this Punk, otherwise we're going to be having a _terrible_ rest of the week," he moped while tossing the hoodie over his head to hide his features.

"It will be fine. You'll see," he told him as they left the apartment, crossing his fingers where Bucky couldn't see.

* * *

Sam was already most of the way through his lap before he heard the familiar quick paced footsteps approaching him from behind. There seemed to be something slightly off with the sound of them this morning...an echo...but as they almost reached him, Sam heard the all too familiar phrase uttered.

"On your left," Steve's voice informed him.

"Got it," he said.

But then, as his form passed him, Sam watched as the second hooded figure kept up with Steve on his own left. Stumbling over his own feet, Sam paused to watch as Steve and the other person, who could only be the Winter Solider, continue to move away from him at a hurried pace.

"Thanks for the warning," Sam spoke aloud once his shock wore off to nobody who would actually hear him.

Continuing on his lap, a few minutes later the multiple fast footfalls once again appeared behind him.

"On your left," Steve taunted him again.

" _Still_ got it," he said but turning slightly to look at the approaching duo.

When he did, Sam could just make out the longer hair and shadowed face from Steve's companion. He had indeed somehow found Bucky. If he actually looked at Sam to see if he recognized him, Bucky did not show it. The pair passed him and continued running. It had been months ago and they had not been in each other presence for long…the Winter Solider trying to kill him on the freeway, then kicking him off of the Helicarrier.

Nope, very intense moments but time wise, not long at all.

When it was time for them to lap him again, this time Sam decided to end the strange new game of Steve's for today. Sam kept looking over his shoulder until he saw them turn a corner behind him getting ready to make another pass. But this time, Sam was ready for them.

Stopping in the middle of the narrow concrete path, Sam turned around to face them with his arms crossed, leaving no doubt that he was paying attention to them. Once they got close enough, he saw the second figure stumble on his own run just enough so that Sam knew that he was at least familiar to the potential ex-assassin. Steve made eye contact with Sam but he didn't look ashamed or even worried as to what may happen over the next few moments.

Bucky stopped all movement suddenly, giving a bit of distance between them before Steve knew that he had done so. Stopping also, he turned to Bucky, watching him stare at Sam.

"Come on," Steve said to the hopefully ex-assassin. "Everything is fine."

"You tricked me!" Bucky growled out jabbing a finger towards his old friend.

"No, I didn't. I _never said_ that you wouldn't have to _meet people_ ," Steve offered as some kind of defense to the comment.

"Low blow, Punk," Bucky huffed, not moving forward towards either of them.

Sam decided that maybe if he was this hesitant about meeting someone that it should be him to alleviate some of the worry.

"Well, at least this time I'm not driving _and_ I'm already on the ground," Sam said loud enough so that both of them could hear. Did he just notice a small smile from the Winter Soldier at the comment?

"Bucky, this is Sam Wilson," Steve told his old friend, to which Sam lifted his hand in a wave greeting. "Sam, Bucky Barnes."

"You sure about that?" he decided to ask to get it out of the way.

"Yes," Bucky then answered.

"How did you find him?" Sam asked Steve as he stared at Bucky, a bit worried about what he was planning since he seemed to be tense at this meeting.

"He found me, actually," Steve responded. "Bucky contacted me two days ago and has been staying with me. He's the reason I didn't run yesterday."

"Staying with you? You say that like he's only visiting," he said.

"I am. Once I get my mission files, I'm leaving," Bucky then told him.

"The ones that Nat has?" he asked Steve.

"Yes. Bucky needs them to help restore some of his memories. I made him agree to stay with me until Natasha gets back into town, to see that Hydra is really gone and that he doesn't have anything to fear from them," Steve explained. "I'm hoping he'll see that I'm right and not leave once he has the files."

"Steve's right. We've taken down a lot of Hydra bases that were exposed with the S.H.I.E.L.D. file dump," Sam told him, to which Bucky's face slightly puckered, as if he didn't truly believe what he was being told. "There are a lot of agencies out there after them too, not just the Avengers."

"Still doesn't mean _I'm_ safe," he told Sam. "What guarantee do I have that _you_ aren't going to turn me in?"

Giving Bucky one of his best cheeky smiles, Sam answered, "Because I'm a pretty nice guy when I'm not being kicked off of flying boats."

That time, he was _sure_ that Bucky smiled at his comment.

"We still have a few more laps," Steve then said. "Meet you at the tree?"

"Sure," Sam said turning to start his run again, giving Steve time to talk with Bucky now that he knew Sam was a possible friend.

A few moments later, he heard "on your left" as the two of them passed him.

"Oh, come on...Really?"

* * *

Star glanced around the room full of her family in her nephew's house and still felt like an outsider. Even after being home for thirty years there seemed to something hanging in the air, stifling her when she was around them. Maybe it was that everyone else in her family was normal. They had spouses and kids, pets, normal jobs. What she had always grown up believing that she would have.

But for her, it had all been a lie.

It had been taken from her, leaving her alone…as her mother just _loved_ to point out.

By the time that she had come home, both her older brother David and sister Alice had already married. She had become an instant aunt to two nephews, a two-year old and a newborn, David's boys. She had missed her sister's wedding by four months. A _perfect_ June wedding, as her mother had described it…over and over for the next decade.

"LSD, you look like someone just kicked you," David told her, coming over to where she was sitting in the living room, dropping onto the couch next to her. That was one that had _not_ changed when she came home, her brother's nickname for her. Of course their parents had hated the reference, even though back then David kept explaining that it was for the Beatles song _Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds_ , her favorite. But between the two of them, they knew it was to irritate their parents. It was also her inspiration for getting a star tattoo all those years ago.

"I just talked with mom for a few minutes. The same old, same old," she explained, to which he just nodded.

She'd listened for three decades about how she needed to get a ' _real job_ ' and then maybe she would find a man that could ' _deal with her deformity_ '. Star was sick of it. Depending on the mood her mom was in, she would go from ' _find a man_ ' to the exact opposite of how she was now an old spinster and would never find a man to take care of her. As if she hadn't already been taking care of herself for thirty years. Every once in a while, just as a reminder, mom would still like to throw in a jab about how no man, just like Eric, would have wanted her anyways since she couldn't have kids. It was a never-ending see-saw ride of misery.

"Maybe if you told her you were gay, she would at least drop the ' _finding a husband_ ' portion of her standard speech," he grinned at her.

"Remember when I tried that about twenty years ago?" she asked. "All the brochures to religious camps that would ' _cure me_ ' that she kept sending me."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," David chuckled. "Don't worry, mom's seventy-seven. She can't keep going much longer."

"Nice," she sarcastically answered, looking over at her mother playing a game of Cornhole with her great-grandson. Both David and her sister, Alice, had gotten married and had popped out multiple kids, as her parents had expected them all to do. They had moved on with their lives while she had been gone, not that she could blame them. It wasn't like they would have ever been able to find her and she never expected to return to them.

But when Star had finally made it home, she'd had to sit down with her mom, dad, and Barbara, the CIA agent she had first met in Russia, to help explain exactly what she had gone through for those years. For the immediate time upon her return, they had treated her like a broken china doll. Pretty enough to keep around, but don't touch or get too close for fear of breaking her even more. The welcome home hugs had quickly stopped, as if they were worried about contracting something from her.

For the sake of appearance, nobody outside of the immediate family was to know what had really happened to her, to the point where even her own friends that she had gone to the concert with had been told that she had run away. Star tried pointing out that it was not fair for her to lie to everyone, but even with how happy her family had been initially to have her home, there was the shame of what had happened, of what she had been turned into. There was no way her parents were going to tell their friends at the country club that their daughter had been kidnapped to be a sex slave. To them, it was much better that she was just considered a misguided typical teenager who ran away.

To this day, none of her nieces or nephews even knew that she had been missing for those years. The entire topic was taboo unless her mom felt like ranting, but only in private. She'd probably get the full spiel again tonight.

"You know how she is. You know that mom loves you," he told her, which made Star turn her head with a tilt and give him ' _the look'_. David sheepishly added, " _Deep down_?"

"Yeah, _maybe_ , but I just wish she'd stop treating me like a teenager. Hell, I'm a F.B.I. Agent, and even _that_ isn't good enough for her," she pointed out to him.

David had taken over their father's car dealership when he had finally decided to retire ten years ago. Two years later, he'd had a stroke and died. She knew that David was their favorite, then Alice, then her. They had done exactly what had been requested of them. Have a traditional nuclear family.

Star, on the other hand, decided to go to college (but your husband is the one who needs a job – mom) and then made it into the academy (females should not carry guns – dad). It had been a hard task, but she had managed, and neither of her parents had even been impressed with her achievement. Even when she had graduated, she'd practically had to beg for them to come to the ceremony.

"Mom is never going to be happy with you so just be happy with yourself and stop trying to please her," he told her.

" _Wow_ …did you get that from your shrink?" she smirked.

"Nope, just from growing up with them. I know you had it the hardest out of all of us, LSD, but Alice and I did suffer a little too," he answered with a grin as his five year old grandson, Oliver, ran over crying because he had lost the game to his GreatGram. Star managed to understand that he'd been berated for not throwing better for how old he was. She wouldn't even give the young ones a break.

"Auntie Lu!" she heard called out.

Turning towards the stairs, Star couldn't help but smile as she watched Sara take them in a hurry to get to her. Seeing her grandniece's wide grin as she ran for her with her arms open was the best reason to have come all this way. Kneeling on the floor, she grabbed the seven year old into her arms as she gave Sara a large hug.

"GreatGram said that you weren't coming to see me, but Poppy told me you would," Sara told her as she squeezed tight.

"Of course I came to see you, it's your birthday," Star told her, looking over at her brother, glad that he had stood up for her without knowing he'd had to and _still_ happy about his name she'd made sure his grandkids called him. He gave her a quick joking sneer for the look she'd given him.

"Did you see my bicycle? It's pink, just like your star," she happily told her, bringing a smile to her face.

"It's very pretty, Sara," she said sitting back onto the couch. "We'll have to go to the park so you can let me see you riding it."

"Alright, after I open my presents," Sara's eyes were wide with delight.

"I'll be here for a few days, so we'll see a lot of each other," she let her know.

"Sara, why don't you take Oliver to you mom? Maybe she can get him to stop crying," David then requested, pointing to where his daughter Wendy was putting paper plates and napkins on the kitchen table.

"Ok, Poppy," she said taking her little brother's hand and leading him away to where her mom was. In the kitchen, Star saw David's wife Laura was trying to finish decorating the birthday cake for her granddaughter.

"She actually told Sara that I wasn't coming?" Star heatedly, but quietly asked. "Mom's known for _weeks_ that I was planning this trip."

"Don't let her get to you," David answered. "I made sure Sara knew the truth. Mom's just mad that Sara likes you better."

"Well, mom is so _friendly_ , I have _no idea_ why," Star sarcastically informed him.

Just then, her mom came in from the covered patio where the bean-bag game was set up, heading for the kitchen. They could just barely hear their mom start to criticize Laura's work on the cake, saying how much better the icing would have been if Laura had used the recipe she had been using since David was a child. Then of course the lettering was sloppy, with the roses looking like lumps of mush. Not even the spouses were spared her haughtiness and condemnation.

"Looks like Laura needs saving," she pointed out to David.

"Come on…one broken hip and retirement home, here she comes," he grumbled rising from the couch.

"If that's how you _really_ feel, maybe you shouldn't have let mom _move in_ with you then," she pointed out as he grumbled in response and went to save his wife from committing murder.

* * *

Bucky stood next to the tree, looking over at where Steve and Sam were sitting on the grass cooling off after their run. He was still mad at the Punk for tricking him the way he did. The first two times they had passed Sam, he had thought that he was nothing more than another jogger. Steve and Natasha had been his targets, anyone else was collateral damage, so there had not been a file on Sam.

The incident on the overpass had happened too quickly for him to get a good look at Sam. And then on the Helicarrier, his face had been obscured by the goggles. He had not actually known that Sam had survived the fall after he had ripped one of his wings off. Bucky guessed that he should at least consider Sam a best case scenario considering his past.

"So, was there something that made you come out of hiding?" Sam asked him.

"My files."

"That's it?" Sam looked over at Steve as if expecting him to add something to his answer.

"Yes."

"And you'll just leave again once you have them?" he kept on.

"That's my plan," he plainly stated.

"What would it take to get you to believe that Hydra is really not a threat?" Sam asked him.

"Since I haven't seen a membership roster with every name struck off, nothing that I can think of," he actually told him.

"I see that he has _your_ sense of humor," Sam said looking over at Steve.

"At least I have a few days to try and prove to him that he's safe here," Steve said.

Sam then turned back to him, "If Hydra was still anywhere near a threat, you realize that they would have gone after Steve for outing them, _and_ they would have already done it."

Bucky considered this for a few moments. That was a good point. Steve had been living in the same known apartment for months where anyone Hydra related could easily find him and take him out. But it hadn't happened.

As Sam and Steve started to talk about an upcoming seminar at the V.A. that Steve was supposed to attend, he looked around the park carefully, checking to see if it was still clear. He had scanned the area during their run, not finding anything amiss, and in doing so, his mind kept wandering back to Star.

During the run, at one point they had taken a small narrower path through a more wooded area. At that point, he flashed to a memory of seeing Star running away from him down a similar area. He was running after her, but it was different than the last time he remembered something like that, when there had been a fog as he screamed for her. This time, she was watching him over her shoulder, but she didn't look frightened. For some reason she was dressed as if she were an agent, dark colored shirts, boots, a wool cap. Had she been a Hydra agent who had betrayed them? As he had reached out to grab her neck, the memory stopped, along with the accompanying headache. Had he caught Star and killed her? Was that why the memory had stopped, because it was too painful to remember?

Bucky had started to realize that with all the different memories returning of Star, that there was something wrong with the timing of them. Usually he would only survey a target from a distance before eliminating them. But with Star, there were too many up close and personal times, daytime, nighttime, with fog, without fog, inside, outside...even eating meals. It made no sense to him. He needed to find this mission file.

"Buck, are you alright?" Steve's voice caught his attention.

"What?" he asked looking over at the two men watching him.

"Are you alright?" Sam then asked him. "Were you having a flashback?"

"Flashback?" he considered the word, thinking of how he had been replaying his memories of Star again, then answered, "Yes."

"Want to talk with us about it?" Sam then asked.

"No!"

With that answer, he turned and began to walk away towards where the apartment was. There was no way he was about to discuss any of his missions with a stranger. And he sure as hell was not going to recite the evil deeds he had done anywhere around Steve. He had not gotten very far before Steve caught up with him.

"Bucky, it's all right. I know that it's hard for you but I'm here to help. And Sam will help you too, if you let him. It's what he does for a living now. He works at the V.A. with other soldiers who've had traumatic experiences of their own. He's a great councilor, if you would give him a chance."

He gave a slight nasally huff at hearing that, then saying, "They've never had to do what I did."

"That may be true, but getting help from someone would not be a bad idea," Steve offered. "I've even sat through a couple of Sam's group sessions with other soldiers. Hearing their stories made me realize that war never changes. Only the men and women fighting it."

"Not…no, I…" he took a breath, trying to catch his thoughts. "I just want to deal with it myself."

Steve looked at him and nodded his head in a sad understanding as they walked back to his apartment.

* * *

"Look at me!" Sara yelled as she pumped her feet to make the swing go even higher.

"I see you," Star called out from where she was sitting on the bench at the park down the street from the house. The lunch party had ended and Sara was not about to let her forget about riding her new bike, without training wheels, to show Star how she could do it like a big girl. They had left about an hour ago, with Star getting a sour face from her mom at Sara pulling her out of the door so they could be alone. She could already hear the ' _bad influence_ ' on Sara speech she would get later.

For the past four months, since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., it had been so much harder for Star to not think about Scary, know that he was now out there somewhere. Alone and on the run. Hopefully…as opposed to what Hydra may have done if they had recaptured him. For years, she had been able to go months without thinking about him this much. He was always there..just getting home, and a little bit at night right before she fell asleep alone and cold in her bed.

But now, she could actually picture him doing exactly the same instead of the coffin shaped freezer she had gotten used to picturing him in.

Pulling out her phone, Star scrolled through her gallery of saved pictures until she came to the one she had been searching for. Scary. It was one from the internet that she had downloaded and filed away so that when she was feeling just like this that she could take it out and just look at him for a bit. Scary…Bucky…was wearing his military uniform, looking very sharp and handsome... _dapper_ Steve had called it. She liked that term.

Sometimes she wished that she could somehow get a picture of him of how she had known him, with his hair longer and a bit scraggly as it partially covered his face.

Plopping down on the bench next to her, Sara pulled her arm over so that she could see the phone's screen before asking, "Who's that?"

"An old friend," she simply told her, holding the phone over more for her to see. There was no way that Sara would ever understand the relationship between her and Scary.

"Does he live where you live?" she asked.

"No. He's…traveling right now," Star told her, turning the phone off and putting it into her pocket. Sara took her hand into hers, tracing her small delicate fingers over the initials still visible there. Glad that they didn't frighten her but not wanting to think about how she got them while with Sara, Star asked, "Are you ready to head home? I think that we need to help your mom out by finishing off that ice cream so she has more room in the freezer."

That brought a smile to Sara's face, exposing the hollow area where she had lost an upper front tooth a few weeks back. Sara had made David send her a picture of the bloody item lying in her palm, proud that she had been able to pull the stubborn tooth out all by herself. She had then informed Star that only big girls were brave enough to do that.

"Can we put gummy bears and whip cream on it?" Sara asked standing up on the bench.

"Is there _any other way_ to eat it?" she asked her as she had Sara climb on her back before they headed for her pink bicycle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a comedian in the 1930's and 1940's called W.C. Fields.  
> You can use YouTube to see some of his skits. The guys would have seen some of the movies he was in growing up.


	47. Bad Feelings All Around

**Song: _Numb_ by Linkin Park  
**

* * *

"All I'm saying is that you have wasted your life," her mother exclaimed during her rant at Star sat in the living room chair mindlessly flipping through a magazine.

"I'm pretty sure that all of the people I've helped to free from human traffickers would beg to differ, mother," Star snarked out.

"And what do _you_ have to show for it? No husband. No kids…"

"I see the _dementia_ has kicked in again," Star blurted out at that.

"I only meant…" her mother began, but Star was not going to put up with this same old argument again.

"No, mom! I know _exactly_ what you meant. And once upon a time, thirty _fucking_ years ago, that was _exactly_ what I wanted. But then life decided to _screw_ me over… _literally_ ," she pointed out, tossing the magazine onto the sofa nearby. They had come home hours ago after having dinner out, and her mother leaving the waiter almost in tears, giving David, Laura, and mom some alone time in his house where she was staying during her trip to Savannah. "I'm heading upstairs for a bath and then bed."

"LSD, you don't have…" David started to say but she just lifted her hand to stop him.

"It's fine. And Laura, I forgot to mention yesterday that Sara's cake was delicious… _especially_ the icing," she smiled at her sister-in-law, receiving a matching grin at the compliment for not only her baking, but at giving Laura's mother-in-law a jab. By the time she'd made it to the stairs, her mother had started in on David for letting his hair grow out to make him look like a hippy. The cycle never ends, she thought.

Once in the bathroom, Star turned on the water and began to fill the tub. Stripping down, she stepped into the warm water, grabbing the bubble bath that Laura kept for when Sara and Brian spent the night. As it started to fill the tub, she sat back and wished that her trip had gone perfect, the way her imagination always lied to her.

Needing to vent a bit, she picked up her phone to text the one person who would understand. Sherry was not only her best friend, but she was also a member of her team, taking charge of their cases until she got back. Sherry was the most senior member of Star's team. Even trained agents couldn't handle this job for too long when the weight of what they learned and saw got to be too much. But she and Sherry had developed a friendship that helped to carry both of them through even the toughest of days. Star soaked in the warmth as she typed.

 **Lucy** : _Remind me next time to just have Sara come visit me_  
**Sherry** : _That bad?_  
**Lucy** : _David doesn't even have any liquor here to help drown her out_  
**Sherry** : _Then I'll keep you drunk for the entire weekend once you get back ;)_  
**Lucy** : _I may have to take you up on that_  
**Sherry** : _Girls Night Wooo_

Putting the phone down, Star had to laugh knowing that Sherry was probably at home right now actually wooo'ing into the air. At least there was one other person out there who understood a bit of what her mom put her through. They had been friends for over ten years, with Sherry having come with her years ago for a trip and learning first hand how these trips usually went. Sherry had once said they should sic her mother on all the criminals out there, locking them with her in an interrogation room until they broke down and confessed to get her to stop nagging at them.

Slipping all the way under the warm water, her mind went back to that cold, rainy day in Russia, where she had done the same thing. Pushing back up, she looked over to her left, but unfortunately, Scary was not sitting on the floor this time, waiting to ask her inappropriate questions about their at-the-time confusing relationship. She could still picture his beautifully troubled face as they had talked. He had been trying to be honest, but she could see that there had been more he was too hesitant to talk about.

What was Scary doing right now? How far had he run? Had he gone back to Russia since he had spent so much time there? Had some agency or Hydra caught up with him and taken him prisoner without Steve finding knowing? How she hoped that he was safe and free...

Hearing the chime indicating that she had a message, Star grabbed her phone from the countertop thinking it was probably Sherry again. But another name that cheered her up was there instead.

 **Steve** : _How is your trip?_  
**Lucy** : _Ups and downs._  
**Steve** : _Overall?_

Star then forwarded him a picture of Sara wearing a paper tiara with pink feathers as she blew out the candles on her cake. She didn't want to depress Captain America with this part of her life.

 **Steve** : _She's adorable_.  
**Lucy** : _Best part of my trip._  
**Steve** : _Up for a run when you're back?_  
**Lucy** : _Sure, I haven't been humbled in days._  
**Steve** : _See you then._  
**Lucy** : _Don't break Sam before I get back. I want to see it happen_.  
**Steve** : _Wouldn't think of it._

Dropping her phone onto the fluffy rug, Star leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling just a bit better thanks to her friends.

* * *

"What were you doing in there?" Bucky asked him as he emerged from the bedroom where he had been texting with Star.

"Just checking on a friend who's away on a trip. Seeing how she was doing," he honestly answered him.

"Natasha?" he asked sounding hopeful.

"No, somebody else. I haven't heard from Nat yet," he told him.

"A girlfriend?" Bucky then ask with a slight smile on his face, which made Steve get a grin on his.

"If you mean, is she a _friend_ who _happens_ to be a girl, then _yes_. Beyond that, then no, she is not _my_ girlfriend," he answered, and Bucky did not seem to take notice of the slight innuendo. Really, why would he?

Over the past four days, there had not been a single mention of any memory concerning Star at all. Steve guessed that if he had remembered her in some way that he would ask for help in trying to find her. She had to be the only good part of his life for the past seventy years, yet he hadn't brought up the mission he had met her on. The one time he had tried to sneak a peek at one of the journals to see if he had written about Star, Bucky had caught him and now he always made sure to pack them up when he was done writing. If only he knew, but what would happen if he just mentioned her…

As they were sitting on the couch right before bedtime watching the local news, Steve decided to take a chance.

"Bucky, how many of the different missions do you think you remember?" he asked him carefully.

"I don't want to do this, Steve," he answered already a bit defensively already.

"I just want to see if you remember someone," he tried to let him know.

Bucky then quickly stood up from the couch, taking a couple of steps away while looking very distraught.

"Bucky, I just want to see…"

"Dammit Steve, yes, I remember Howard!" the shocking words came from him.

Howard? Howard Stark?

"Bucky, what do you…" he started to ask even though he was afraid to know the answer.

"Yes, I remember…" he quietly said. "I remember the mission…where I killed Howard."

Steve knew that he was staring dumbfounded at his best friend, but…then Zola's taunting words came back to him, from that day in the underground bunker with Natasha. He had been shown the newspaper about Howard's death. It had been listed as a car accident. And Zola had said it was staged. But Steve never even imagined that Hydra had used _Bucky_ to kill Howard and Maria.

Sitting on the couch, Steve doubled over a bit, resting his arms on his legs while rubbing his face as he let this new piece of information take its painful time to soak in. With all the horrible things that he had been forced to do, the fact that someone had sent Bucky out to kill their old friend was devastating. No wonder he kept getting defensive every time that he had tried to ask about his memories.

"Bucky…I didn't mean…" he tried to say.

"Please, Steve. Drop it," Bucky requested sounding so mournful. "They are all dead because of me. Every mission, every single target…they are dead and I'm the one who killed them. No matter _who_ they were or what they _meant_ to me."

* * *

With that, Bucky then headed past the kitchen to where the door leading to the fire escape stairs was, which gave them access to the rooftop. It had quickly become his favorite spot to go to when he needed some time alone. The apartment was small, perfect for just Steve to live in. But with the two of them there for a few more days, he needed some alone time.

Sitting down on the plastic milk crate that someone had left up here at some point, he stared at the skyline, brightly lit areas indicating a couple of the different monuments around the city. Yesterday after their run, Steve had asked Sam if he would drive them over to Arlington cemetery where some members of the Howling Commandos were buried so that they could pay their respects. Sam had easily agreed, after joking that Bucky had to stay _in_ his car this time…not _on_ it, stating that he could stop and see Riley while they were there.

Seeing his confused look at the comment Sam had then told him about his partner who had gotten killed while out on a mission. Bucky realized that it was a connection that Steve and Sam shared, only this time Riley would not be suddenly appearing like Bucky had. They had walked around the cemetery, reminiscing about stories of the Howlers with Sam, telling of some of the good times they had spent together, before his life had turned into hell.

Bucky then remembered the one particular memorial in the cemetery from yesterday, the one that had pulled another memory of Star from him. Walking around viewing the memorials, there had been one which was a flame coming up from the stone ground surrounding it. Heading over to see it better, he had asked who it was for. Sam had then told him it was for an assassinated president, John F. Kennedy. That was when the memory happened, along with the usual stabbing pain.

 _/…"Why is she singing of killing someone?" he had asked, not liking the song at all._  
_"It's a tribute to J.F.K.," Star told him as she turned her head to look at him._  
_"Who?"_  
_"You've never heard of J.F.K., John F. Kennedy._  
_He was President of the United States when he was assassinated…/_

He had been lying on the floor of a house with Star right next to him…so close their arms were touching…and she was _not_ afraid of him. Bucky knew now that Kennedy had indeed been his mission, but at the time, with the Chair wiping him, he had not even recalled any of that mission.

But seeing Star in his memory, laying next to him while smiling, eating popcorn, even considering the strange horrible topic, the memory had been a good one for him…until later that night when the _next one_ happened.

Lying down on the dark couch, trying to fall asleep for a few hours before the Punk checked on him again, he had grabbed onto the extra bed pillow Steve had given him, wrapping his arm around it as he lay on his left side. That was when her angry voice had come to him…with a sharp stab…

 _/…"What?" she questioned as he then looked at a pillow on the floor. "It offended me"…_  
_As she left the room with the chain still attached to her ankle, almost slamming_  
_the bathroom door behind her, he had wondered if Star was mad_  
_because she had figured out that he was planning on killing her today…/_

Trying to get any rest after _that_ memory had been impossible.

Instead, he had stealthily left the apartment and made his way up here, trying to hold back the tears as he sat in the warm night breeze for a few hours. Why had she known she was going to die? Why had she been so resolved with it happening? Eventually he had heard Steve trying to quietly make his way up to let him know that it was time for breakfast. He had spent most of today trying to force more memories of her to return, so far without any success.

Why did she keep haunting him more than any other target? How had he killed her? How? Choking...gun...knife...

Now, staring down at his hands, the pain and memory started…

 _/…they were outside walking through the woods…_  
_…Star was in front of him on the path…_  
_…she didn't even bother looking at him as he pulled out his knife from its sheath…_  
_…he had tried to decide between slicing her throat or stabbing her through her heart…/_

Had that been it? Which death had he finally chosen? She was dressed the same as when he had been chasing her from the other vision. Had she seen what he was about to do and run from him?

She would not have been the first female, or even the last, that he had killed. So why did he seem to… _miss_ …her? Thinking that word, he felt hot tears roll off of his cheeks again. Why...how did she manage to do this to him?

About an hour after the brief conversation concerning Howard, and once his headache from Star was gone, Bucky finally returned to the apartment to find Steve dressed for bed but sitting at the kitchen table with his phone sitting on it.

"Why are you still awake?" he asked him, stepping to the fridge to grab a beer, even thought it would not help to drown out his thoughts like it used to do.

"Natasha just called," Steve quietly informed him. "She'll be back in three days."

Bucky considered this news…but was it good or bad? Either way, he may finally have his answers.

"Buck…I've known about Howard since just before the Helicarriers. Nat and I found a bunker at Camp Lehigh in Jersey. Below it was a large computer in which Zola had somehow uploaded his mind inside of to keep himself alive."

Bucky stared at him, almost not believing what Steve was telling him. Zola…still alive?

"Is he still there?" he asked a bit worried. He unfortunately remembered him all too well.

"No. S.H.I.E.L.D., or technically Hydra, took out the bunker with a missile to get to Nat and I, destroying the computer that he was located in," Steve informed him.

"Good. I'm glad that bastard is finally dead," he pointedly looked at the metal fist wishing he had been able to end Zola's life with the item he had unwillingly given to him.

"He was the one…" Steve started to say, then nodding towards his left arm.

"Yeah. With my dumb luck, the Russian soldiers that found me somehow ended up contacting Hydra about me. After a few years of being their prisoner, Zola eventually took custody of me and continued with his experiments. He said I was the only test subject of his to have survived. So he kept going."

"I'm so sorry that I never went back to look for you. By the time that damn train arrived at the rendezvous site, there was no way for me to explain to the Howlers where you had even fallen," Steve quietly told him. "We had Zola in our custody, so getting him back to London for interrogation was our main concern."

At this point, he walked over and sat down at the table, taking a drink of the beer as the two of them let the silence stay between them for a bit.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Steve eventually asked him.

"No."

"With those natural raccoon eyes I didn't think that you had. Why don't you use the bed tonight? Maybe it will help," he offered him.

"I don't see how that ugly yellow blanket will make the demons in my head shut up. If anything, they'll be laughing all night," he told his friend with a smile.

"It reminds me of the one from my mom's room, Jerk," Steve defended himself.

"I definitely wouldn't mention _that_ to your girlfriend," he deadpanned joked trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"She's _not_ my girlfriend," he threw back at him, but at least Steve didn't look as miserable as he had a few minutes ago. "Is there something in particular that you want your files for?"

Bucky looked up at him, took another drink of the beer, and refused to answer that question. Star was his memory, his guilt. There was no way he would put her death onto Steve's shoulders.

"Fine. Take the bed tonight, at least," Steve said standing up and moving over to the couch. "And don't wake me until the sun is actually in the sky."

"You better not have short-sheeted the bed," he offered back at him with as much of a smile as he could muster.

"Would I do that to you?" Steve innocently asked.

"Yes," he sarcastically answered. Raising his hand, Bucky began to count off, "Vicenza, Mimmingen, Brno,..."

" _That_ you can remember?" Steve threw is hands up in defeat. "And here I was worried about your memory."

Bucky watched his best friend trying to get comfortable on the couch that was just a couple of inches too short for him and suddenly, recalling all the times that Steve had messed with him out in the field, he didn't feel as bad about taking the bed tonight.

* * *

Lying on the couch, Steve stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what he needed to do. The conversation he had been expecting sure had not happened. He had tried to bring up Star, but then he had been spectacularly thrown for a loop by Bucky revealing that he had killed Howard, their friend. He had looked up the article on Howard's death, along with his wife Maria, reading about the car accident while trying to figure out how Hydra had actually killed him. And now, the person physically responsible was hopefully getting some sleep in his bed.

He would never blame Bucky for the killings that they had made him do for all of those years. But even Bucky kept pointing out that it was _he_ who had done them. None of them had been because Bucky had _wanted_ to though. The only killing he had ever done was during the war, using his accurate sniping skills to save other soldiers and even Steve and the Howlers numerous times.

So, how was he supposed to help Bucky get over the guilt that he had? Was there even a way to? If only he could get him to at least talk with Sam, then maybe that might help. What would it take for that to happen? Steve hoped that if anything did happen, that it wasn't too bad…or destructive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can now see, I'm playing around with Bucky's memories a bit.  
> Don't worry...well, worry a little bit...  
> There is a reason for everything.


	48. Bucky Has A Bad Memory

**Song: _37 Stitches_ by Drowning Pool  
**

* * *

The next morning as Bucky was fixing omelets and bacon for him and Steve, who was still fast asleep on the couch, he heard the sound of his friend's phone message going off. Rolling over and almost off of the couch, he chuckled as he watched Steve catch himself, earning him a scowl from the den. Steve picked up his cell, checking to see what he had received.

Sitting upright, Steve turned to him working in the kitchen.

"Sam wants to see if we want to meet up with him for a late run then he's having a group meeting before lunch. Would you feel up for us sitting in the back?" Steve asked him, once again trying to encourage him.

He knew that the Punk was only trying to help him and he had even admitted to attending a few of the meetings himself to deal with issues. Bucky knew that _going_ to not mean _joining_ _in_. It's not like being there could make anything worse.

Taking a deep breath, he consented, "Sure."

The joyful look on Steve's face at hearing him agree was almost worth it.

* * *

Steve and Bucky sat down on the grassy area under 'their tree' as it had become known, while Sam was lying on his back with his arms out at his sides. Hearing his cellphone ding a message at him, Steve took it out to check. The attached photo on the screen showed a beautiful waterfront gravel path with the sun over the horizon with marsh plants lining the right side.

 **Lucy** : _My view this morning while jogging_.

Steve held the phone up and took a picture of Sam lying looking dead on the ground, sending the shot to Star.

 **Steve** : _My view this morning_.  
**Lucy** : _I asked you not to break him before I got back to watch_.  
**Steve** : _Don't worry, he's a glutton for punishment. He'll never stop trying to keep up_.

"Who's that?" Bucky asked, probably seeing him smiling at the phone.

"Lucy sent me a picture of where she took her morning run while she's away," he offered turning the phone around so both he and Sam could see the nature trail.

"Definitely better than my view," Bucky joked, looking over at Sam.

"I resent that, Goldilocks," Sam taunted him back still panting a bit heavily. "Where was she again?"

"Savannah," Steve said putting the phone back in his pocket.

"Is Lucy that girlfriend you were checking on last night?" Bucky teased him, getting Sam to prop up onto his arms with a smile waiting to see his response.

"I told you, Lucy is not my girlfriend," he sighed out, glad that Bucky felt good enough to at least tease him.

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky nodded his head a couple of times with that cocky smile he used to do so often growing up. It told him that his friend was still in there and just needed some help to get back to normal. Hopefully going to the meeting later with Sam would help do just that.

"You recovered enough yet or do we need to call in a nurse, Wilson?" Steve taunted him seeing the smile on Sam's face at Bucky calling Lucy his girlfriend. That will be an interesting conversation in a few days.

Sam then sat up and brushed the grass out of his hair.

"Only if she is cute. And I am perfectly fine," he said as the three of them stood up. Saying he'd see them at the V.A., Sam started to walk away, but turned before he got too far and called out, "Tell your girlfriend 'hi' for me."

Bucky began to laugh at him as Steve gave him a pointed stare but just started walking away from the jokers.

At least Sam had lightened up about worrying when it came to Lucy's motives over the past few weeks. They had run together many times, and they had definitely formed the beginnings of a teasing friendship. Star always wore her long hair in a braided bun so he didn't think that Sam knew the actual length of it, which would be a topic that might jog Bucky's memories.

He had been more surprised by how well she and Nat seemed to have connected the day they spent going over Bucky's files looking for Hydra associations. When he had entered the room after doing some laundry, the two of them had clammed up, as if they had shared a secret and were keeping it from _him_. He hadn't pried though, glad that this new important person in his, and Bucky's, life was fitting in so well.

Steve wondered if he should try again asking about Star, but she would be home in only a few days. She had already agreed to meet up with him the morning after she got back for jogging with Sam. Maybe he should just let nature take its course and see what happened. It had worked out fine with Bucky and Sam, so he could at least dream that it went just as well.

Besides, if Bucky _did_ remember Star, then having to wait days for her to return might be a bit painful for him. He remembered how anxious Bucky would get when they were young around his birthday and Christmas time waiting for his presents. Steve worried about how Bucky could deal with that opposite end of the emotional spectrum than what he was used to, or if he could still get that excited about something.

At least Star hadn't asked about Bucky because he didn't want to tell her about him over the phone, especially while she was away and not able to do anything about it.

And he would not lie to her by saying that there had been no information.

* * *

Sitting in the far back of the meeting hall, Bucky sat with his arms crossed as the other attendees slowly made their way out of the doors. The past hour had been very enlightening overall. Hearing the other soldiers, male and female, describe some of the exact same emotions and feeling of guilt that he had been having helped him to see that maybe Steve had been right. That he was not alone in this world with the remorse of what he had done.

The stories had all been different but the results had seemed to have been the same. Guilt.

He realized that the others in attendance had actually signed up for what they had gotten into, and granted so had he originally, but none of them could understand how he had been forced to do the horrible deeds that he had.

The blood on their hands was a different shade than his.

Neither one of them had joined in the conversations this time. Bucky doubted that if… _when_ …he came back that he ever would. There was no way for him to share his experiences with anyone. The only one close to understanding had been a sniper who had shared a tale that Bucky could almost have told.

The sniper had been stationed to wait for an insurgent leader to make an appearance. When he had, he had not been alone. He'd had to take the shot while the terrorist was sitting in a back yard reading a story to his young daughter. Decades ago, there had been a similar mission, only the politician had been pushing his son on a swing set. It was the look from the children that had haunted Bucky and the other sniper more than the actual target. The targets were dead. But it was the expression from the children who had to live with the picture of their dead parent for the rest of their lives that still haunted both of them.

"Care to grab some lunch?" Sam asked them as he walked to where they had been sitting.

"I'm game," Steve offered, looking over at him as the deciding factor.

"Sure," he agreed, getting another smile from Steve. It didn't seem to take much to make the Punk happy.

A little while later, they were all sitting in a restaurant eating the huge cheeseburgers and fries they had ordered. Both he and Steve had ordered doubles, while Sam stuck to a single patty.

"No wonder you two have to run so much, eating like that," Sam joked across the table from Bucky, indicating their food with a nod of his head.

"Maybe if you ate more, you'd have the energy to keep up with us," Bucky offered with a smile before taking another large bite of the delicious meal and getting a laugh from Steve.

"Man, I don't know if I'll be able to stand there being _two_ of you smart alecks," Sam joked eating.

"Don't worry, it won't be for long," he then told him, which made Steve pause with his eating.

"Buck, are you still planning on leaving?" he asked, sounding very disappointed.

"That's always been my plan. You knew this," he told him, now staring pointedly at the fries on his plate, not wanting to make eye contact with Steve as he kept eating.

"But for the past few days, haven't you seen that you don't have to run?" Steve asked him sounding hopeful.

"A few days of peace does not mean that I'm safe," he pointed out, "only that Hydra hasn't found me yet."

"And what if they really _are_ gone?" Sam then asked as he took a bite from her burger.

Looking over at him across the table as he chewed a bit so he could answer, Bucky finally replied, "That would be _nice_ , but I haven't believe in _fairy tales_ since I was a kid. There's no _fairy godmother_ with a magic wand to fix _my_ problems."

"With that ragamuffin hair, you're _definitely_ no prince charming either," Steve told him with a partial grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"There's nothing wrong with my hair. It helps to obscure my facial features to make it harder for photographic evidence to confirm my identity," he recited from his training dialogue, but as soon as the words left his mouth, Bucky had a painful flash of a memory.

 _/…Star was standing in front of him wearing an oversized shirt, holding a hairbrush in her hand…_  
_…"That may be true… **but** …I'm the only one here **and** there are no cameras around. Do you **ever** brush your hair?"…_  
_…He never brushed his hair, and it was not something that the technicians at the base_  
_ever did for him or ordered him to do. He had shaken his head 'no'…_  
_…With that, Star stepped forward to stand between his knees, so unafraid of him and so close…_  
_…she began to run her fingers softly through his hair, while brushing it away from his face._  
_She carefully worked at the knots, her fingers massaging his scalp,_  
_being nice and gentle with him, unlike the scientists…_  
_He sat there enjoying the pleasant gesture that she was doing for him._  
_…It was at that moment he had decided to make sure she did not suffer when he killed her…/_

How the hell could he had done that to such a gentle person? She showed him a kindness that he _never_ received, and he was planning on repaying it with her death? How fucking evil had he become? Killing Star _painlessly_ would be her reward for treating him like a human and not the vicious animal that Hydra had made him…

Bucky dropped the burger onto his plate as his body stiffened while starting to shake in pure hatred of himself at the memory he had just seen.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve asked him from the chair to his right.

His stomach started to churn in a very bad way.

Standing up without answering, he calmly walked out of the restaurant, following his training of making sure to not draw any attention to himself as he did so. Heading down the sidewalk, he turned into an alleyway, going as far back as he could until he reached a dumpster. Standing next to it and holding on for support, he vomited up everything that he had just eaten.

When he was done, he moved to the other side of the alley to lean his back against the wall to keep himself upright. It took all his willpower to not cry right there out in the open.

Sensing movement, he looked to his left and found Steve and Sam only about half way to him from the sidewalk, giving him distance. They chatted for only a moment before Sam started to walk towards him, Steve turning to go towards the entryway.

"How are you doing?" Sam calmly asked him.

"Not good, in case you did hear," he tried to joke with him while holding back the tears.

"There are going to be some very rough memories that will come back to you when you least want them. All you can do is let them and deal with what they reveal," Sam offered, sitting on a wooden crate a few feet out of his arm's reach, not that he blamed him. "Steve's told me repeatedly how you refuse to talk with him about what happened. But you did agree to come to the meeting today. I'm not sure how you still feel about me but I hope that I've earned a bit of trust. Would you be willing to talk with me? I _promise_ I won't tell Steve, if that's what you want."

Bucky wasn't sure how long he leaned on the wall, but the entire time he was actually considering the offer.

Finally, he nodded in head in agreement.

"Come on then," Sam said standing up. "We'll at least do it somewhere a bit less smelly. There's a small park a block over where we can sit. I'll see if Steve will head home but I have a feeling the best we are going to get is about fifty yards."

"The Punk is stubborn," he offered while standing up and looking down at where Steve was guarding the entrance, protecting them.

* * *

Sam sat quietly on the bench while waiting for Bucky to start after telling him to take all the time he needed. If he prodded him, there was a good chance that he would change his mind. He was also giving him time to organize his thoughts, so that he could begin where he wanted to.

It was close to fifteen minutes before he finally did.

"That line…the one from the restaurant. It was part of my training, my conditioning," he slowly began. "When I said it, I remembered when I repeated it on one of my missions. To one of my targets. She…"

Sam sat quiet as he waited for Bucky to continue. But now he knew that the memory had been about a female, and by him calling her a target it sounded like he had killed her.

"She did something…nice…for me," he began again. There was no mistaking the strain in his voice. "I remembered that I decided to make sure she didn't suffer…when I…killed her."

Hearing that, Sam understood very well what was troubling Bucky. No wonder he had reacted the way he had. Remembering something like that had to be horrible. He had read over a few of the files from the computer dump that Natasha had done. There had been many times that either a target or a witness had been female, and Hydra didn't care about that if they wanted them eliminated. But the fact that one of them had somehow been nice to him before they were killed had to be extra difficult.

"I don't remember why they sent me after Star, but it doesn't matter. Star was a target. For some reason she even _knew_ that she was a target. I recalled the other day when I was behind her and pulled my knife, trying to decided...where to strike. I completed my mission."

Sam watched as Bucky face twisted to express the pain that he was feeling inside.

"Why did it have to be me?" Bucky then asked him with all seriousness. "Why couldn't I have just died from that damn fall? What was the point of me living, just so that Hydra could use me to kill for them?"

"I don't know. And there may never be an answer to that question," he told him. "But you can try to at least come to terms with what happened to you. And you have friends now that will help you with that. What do you see over there by the fountain?"

Bucky looked over to where Steve was trying to linger without looking like he was, and failing miserably. He was kicking at the grass sticking up from between the stones that made up the walkway around the water feature, hands in his pockets, glancing their way every few seconds without fully turning his head.

"I see a scrawny ninety-five pound asthmatic Punk who couldn't keep himself out of trouble for five minutes," he told him, earning a sincere laugh from Sam at his answer. "And the moment I wasn't there to watch out for him, he goes out, somehow gets enlisted and then allows himself to be experimented on. I also see a dancing monkey who broke enemy lines to invade a Hydra base all by himself on the off-chance that his best friend was still alive."

"And do you think that dancing monkey over there would _ever_ stop looking for you if you left here in a few days like you are planning on?" he asked him, wondering where the 'dancing monkey' term had come from. Maybe he would get Steve to tell him later.

"No. Like I said, he's too stubborn," Bucky answered.

"Would you like some help to be able to deal with these memories that are returning?" he asked him.

"Yes, but not with Steve's help," which surprised Sam enough so that Bucky kept going. "I remember the Punk well enough to know that _anything_ I tell him about he will turn around to hold himself responsible for it happening since he couldn't get to me in time on the train."

"Then how about even after you get the files from Nat that you give life here a chance, without going on the run again," Sam gave as a new possible future. "I know from your files some of what you were put through, and after having Steve talk my ears off about you for the past few months, I know that _Bucky_ would never have done any of those missions that the _Winter Solider_ went on. I promise that I will not judge _you_ for _anything_ you tell that happened. You can come to group meetings, with Steve or without, and either we can work together, or if you want, I'll find someone else that you will feel comfortable with, a real psychiatrist."

Bucky leaned back on the bench a bit more, considering the offer that Sam hoped he took. He knew that there was a very good chance that it was going to take a lot more than just him to help Bucky through all of the missions and killings. But he was willing to try, not only for Bucky, but for Steve as well.

"What if Hydra finds me?" he then asked.

"I'm sure that won't happen, but if it does, then you will _not_ have to face them alone, _not anymore_. If they came after you while you were out there alone, we would never know until it may be too late to help you. None of us want that to happen. Besides, what if somehow Hydra comes after Steve? Wouldn't you rather be here to help him?" he pointed out. Sam knew that he was playing on Bucky's old protective instincts but he didn't feel bad in the least.

And the look on Bucky's face told him that he may have just won the argument.

"Yeah, the Punk needs all the help he can get," Bucky said sounding a bit better.

"So want to tell me a bit more about this girl Star or anything else that's getting to you…"

Bucky gave a small grin and looked over at him, "I hope you don't have anywhere to be for a while..."

* * *

Star held the plastic pail out for Sara to put the handful of shells into. They had been walking up and down the beach for a while now after getting tired of playing in the waves. Star may be a bit pickier with the shells she chose but Sara found all of them pretty, even the large broken ones, hence the mostly filled bucket.

Off in the distance she could see their group still relaxing in their chairs, luckily giving her and Sara a break from her mother who could not stop complaining. ' _It's too hot', 'the wind is too strong', 'the sand was too scratchy'_...then why did she even agree to come with them? Just to make their own time miserable?

Then there had been the argument she had gotten into with her mom before they had even left the house. She had actually demanded that Star _not_ go all because of the ' _hideous disfigurement_ ' that was her back. Her mom stated that if Sara ever saw them that not only would they not be able to explain what had happened for her to get them, but that it could ' _mentally scar her for life'_. Star had pointed out that she would never do that to Sara and in fact that _she_ was the only one who would be scarred for life.

She loved the scrunched up face her mother had given her for the comment, as if someone had shoved an onion up her nose.

Sara had seen the scars on her hands many times, and Star had just told her that she had gotten hurt when she was younger. Sara never seemed scared of them and would even trace over the initials YK now that she knew the letters. But even if she wouldn't admit it to her mother, there was no way that she would let Sara see her backside and the rough textured damage that was there. Even though she had put on a swimsuit, she was wearing a light linen button-down shirt to cover her. It was a bit annoying to wear in the water, but she would never do anything to hurt Sara.

Thinking back all of those years ago, she could still remember the feeling of Scary's hands touching her, running his fingers over the long multiple lash marks. He had not been scared of them and had not been turned off by them as others had sometimes been. She could almost still feel the touch of his lips and tongue on them...

* * *

After they had talked for almost two hours on the park bench, Sam and Bucky had finally come over to where he was sitting on the raised edge of the fountain. When they had split up, the two of them had shaken hands and nodded, like friends would do. That was a lot more than they had done previously. To Steve, that was a very good sign.

They had just gotten back to the apartment without a single word being spoken between them as they had walked the streets together. Steve was quiet, waiting to see if Bucky would tell him about what he had remembered at lunch, but it seemed that he was not going to know. He closed and locked the door, knowing Bucky's preference for security.

"I'll give it a try," Bucky then said out of the blue once inside the apartment as he was taking off the jacket he had been wearing to hide his arm.

"What?" he turned around to ask, hoping that he had just gotten the answer he was looking for.

"I'll stay for a bit longer…to see what happens," he told him stepping into the small den.

"Bucky, that's great!" he told him, trying to contain himself from grabbing him up and crushing him in a hug.

"I already told Sam that we'll stop by the meetings sometimes," Bucky said sitting down on the couch. "He offered to let me talk with him or a real shrink whenever I need."

"You know that you can always talk with me…" he began before receiving a quick shutdown of…

"No! That's not going to happen," Bucky stopped him. "I'm not going to infect you with my guilt."

"That's not…"

"No! That's the deal."

Steve stared over at where he was sitting on the couch. "If that's what you want, so that you will stay, then I'll easily agree to it."


	49. Bucky and Natasha Meet Again (For The First Time)

**Song: _Battle Born_ by Five Finger Death Punch**

* * *

Waking up in his bed very early the next morning, Steve just felt that something was not right.

Opening his eyes, he realized that Natasha was sitting in the chair by the window, judgmentally shaking her head at him.

"There seems to be a Russian assassin sleeping on your couch," Nat informed him with as much sarcasm as she could.

"As opposed to the one who broke into my place and is sitting in my bedroom?" he responded, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, wondering if Bucky had actually notice her entering, or if Nat was really that good. "I thought that you were supposed to be back tomorrow?"

"Considering the time zone that I was in when I said that, it is _my_ tomorrow," she smirked at him.

"Cute," he said stretching a bit. "Did you wake him up?"

"Since I'm still alive, then no, I didn't," she pointed out, standing up to walk over to the bedroom door, peeking through the crack she had left in it. Dropping her voice a bit, "How long has he been here?"

"About a week," he told her. "He followed me around for a few days before making contact, wanting to make sure that I wasn't being tailed by Hydra."

"Smart. Have you explained about them…" she began to ask as he just started to nod his head.

"Yes, both Sam and I have told him numerous times that he should be safe here, and as of yesterday afternoon, he finally agreed to give staying put a chance instead of running again," he told her.

"What finally made him contact you?" she asked.

"He wants to see his files, the ones on your computer. His memory is still coming back to him in pieces. Bucky wants to read about some of his missions, to help clarify the images," he explained.

"Bucky? Is that who he really is?" she asked moving backwards from the door.

"Yes, he is," Steve answered as the door then slowly pushed open to reveal his friend standing there with a gun pointed at Nat. "And as you can see, he's very protective of me. Bucky, you can put the gun down."

"Romanoff," Bucky said by way of greeting as he pointed the gun towards the floor.

"Barnes," she smiled back at him.

"Rogers," he said getting the two assassins to look at him. "What? I thought we were exchanging names."

"You _still_ have a _horrible_ sense of humor," Bucky informed him as he shook his head.

"You should try dealing with it while on missions," Nat then offered.

"Oh, I did, for just over a year back during the war," Bucky informed her, stepping out of the room as Nat followed him. Bucky rested the gun on one of the upper open room-dividing shelves. Close if he needed it but out of the way, Steve thought.

"Was he as hard to keep out of trouble then as he is now?" she asked following Bucky into the kitchen.

"Probably worse since he was trying to push himself to find his new body's limits," Bucky told her with a grin as he began to pull out the eggs and bacon from the fridge. "But I know that nothing will top when he lived in Brooklyn…"

Steve stood in the doorway, watching his two friends strangely bonding while chatting about trying to keep him alive and out of fights, not even caring that he was right there listening to him. He guessed that overall the scene before him was better than the two of them fighting. It didn't seem that Nat was going to hold a grudge against Bucky for what had happened between the two of them, either time.

As the three of them sat and ate breakfast, he let the two of them talk, discussing not only when they'd both saved him over the years, but they eventually moved on to working through their last exchange on the overpass and street. Bucky actually thanked Nat for when she dove into the front seat and pulled him out of the way from the hail of bullets that he had put into Steve's seat before moving on to Sam's. If not for her quick actions, he (and Sam) would have died with Bucky still having been under Hydra's control.

But then hearing that one of Nat's shots cracked the eye goggles that Bucky had been wearing gave Steve a chill. Bucky had also been so close to dying and he never would have known about his friend until it was too late.

Then Nat brought up the first time they had actually ' _met_ '.

"I think I remember part of that mission," Bucky then said, his eyes slightly glazed over as he seemed to try recalling it. Steve noticed that he didn't seem in pain as some of the other memories seemed to do. "You were in a car going through the desert."

"Yes," Nat told him, "You used the truck you were driving to push us over a cliff side. When I got us out of the vehicle…"

"You tried shielding the target with your body. I shot you," Bucky finished for her.

"Technically, you shot _through_ me. After I got out of the hospital, I tried tracking you down, but you had already disappeared without a trace," she told him.

"The mission was over. By the time you would have started looking I had already been put back into cryo," Bucky told them, sounding a bit like he almost regretted saying it.

"Did that happen after every mission?" he decided to ask.

"Yes. When I returned to base and after debriefing, I would be wiped to erase the mission. Then they would freeze me until the next time," Bucky admitted.

"The wiping…in the Chair? You just said 'erased' but it only 'blocked' the memories instead, right?" Steve decided to ask, remembering how he and Star had talked about what Bucky had told her. They both had believed that their time together would be forever erased. But if he had recalled Star, wouldn't he have mentioned her?

"Yeah. My Handler told me at those times that it was actually erasing them, and I had no reason to doubt him," he told them, standing up and taking his plate to the sink. "But they are mostly still up there but a bit scrambled around like the eggs."

"Well I'm glad that they lied, or are far as they knew, actually believed what they were telling you," Steve smiled at him. "Maybe over time they will all return and not hurt you so much."

"At this point, I think I would prefer to have had the Chair erase them," Bucky deadpanned while pouring his third cup of black coffee. Steve worried a bit at hearing that. If Bucky had remembered anything about Star, he would never joke about forgetting her. "So, when can I get access to my mission files?"

"That shouldn't be too difficult since they are right over there," Nat told him, pointing at the backpack she had placed on the floor next to the chair she had been sitting in when he woke up.

Bucky's wide eyes then began to stare at the bag like it was a bomb.

"I can show you how to access them, but there are things of mine on it. I don't leave it alone with anyone. So, if you want to use it, we get to spend the day together," she explained with a smile, or at least what passed for a Natasha smile. "No guns involved this time though."

He could see the smile form on Bucky's face as it hid it with the coffee mug.

After cleaning up the kitchen while Nat brought out the computer, Steve went to his drafting table to get out of the way. Bucky had asked if he had looked through the files and he admitted that he had read most of them, earning him a scowl. He knew that Bucky did not want him to know the specifics of what he had been forced to do. Maybe he even wanted Steve to only remember him how he used to be during the war and before. But he knew that everything on that computer had changed his best friend starting at his core, and there was no way that he was every going to let something that had been out of his control change how Steve felt about Bucky.

For the next couple of hours, Bucky sat at the table, accessing his files one by one. Every so often, he would get up and head to the roof for a while, anywhere from ten to thirty minutes before coming back and continuing. Nat moved between sittings at the table with him to reading from her tablet on the couch to watching a bit of television. Steve ran out and grabbed sandwiches from the deli down the street since neither of them wanted to leave. By the time that dinner came around, Bucky didn't look any happier than when he had begun. Steve could tell that something was bothering him.

Hitting his fist, thankfully his right, on the table, Bucky asked Nat, "Where are the rest of them?"

"That's all of your electronic files that Hydra had stored on the S.H.I.E.L.D. servers. Anything else older than those must still be located either on another system, or going back ever further located in paper files, somewhere else."

"Damn it," Bucky said standing up very frustrated as he ran his fingers through his messy hair.

Coming to stand at the bedroom door, Steve decided to ask, "Is there something you are looking for? A particular mission?"

"Steve, I already told you that I'm _not_ doing this with you," he once again shot back, stopping that line of questioning.

"Did you go through every file? Are you sure that what you are looking for is not there?" Natasha asked him.

"I'm pretty sure the target I'm looking for is not there," Bucky responded. "I didn't see the name."

"Did you try _searching_ by name?" she then offered, coming over to take the seat at the computer.

Steve watched as she showed him how to do the search before he had her move away so that he could do so in privacy. What, or who, he was looking for, Bucky didn't even want Nat to know about. What could be so important about this one particular mission and target?

"No, the mission for this target is not there," he hears Bucky say a few moments later. With that, Bucky disappeared once again to the rooftop.

"Do you know what he is looking for?" Nat asked him once they were alone.

"No. He's had a couple of rough memories return since he's been here, but he refuses to talk with me about them. I don't know if they are the same mission or a bit of all of them. But one of them really got to him really badly yesterday at lunchtime," he told her.

"So now what?" she asked heading over to the fridge and grabbing a can of soda.

"I'm not sure. The entire reason that he came out of hiding was for his files. But if he wanted something in particular, I'm not sure what he's going to do. He did talk with Sam for a while yesterday, and afterwards he agreed to stay and even attend some of Sam's meetings."

"That's a big step for him," Nat pointed out.

"Want to stay for dinner?" he asked her as she started to pack up the laptop.

"No. But give me a call if you need anything," Nat told him, giving him a pat on the shoulder before she left downing most of the sugary drink before leaving. "Just be careful."

"We'll be fine," he told her, "as long as people stop breaking into my place to watch me sleep. That's a bit creepy, Nat."

"I'd always wondered boxers, briefs, or commando...and now I know," her comments turning him red as she paused at the entrance hallway. "And the next time you meet up with Lucy for lunch, think about inviting me, otherwise I may just show up on my own," she then waved and headed out the door.

Steve went ahead and cooked dinner, waiting till it was ready before heading to the roof to get Bucky. He was again sitting on the milk crate, staring off into the distance. He was sure that every single time he had come up here during the day it had been because of more memories coming back to him…and all of them would have been bad. It's not like Hydra would ever had sent him on a _good_ mission.

Sitting down onto the edge of the raised edge of the decorative roof, he could see that the entire day was weighing on him something fierce.

"Dinner's ready, if you are," he went ahead and told him.

"I'm leaving," Bucky plainly stated, making Steve's jaw drop.

"Why?"

"I need answers," he told him softly. "I thought that they would be with Natasha's files, but they weren't."

"But why do you need to leave? Where do you think you need to go?" he asked.

"Siberia."

Steve knew that he was staring dumbfounded at him, but there was nothing to say after hearing that. Was there?

"If Natasha is right, then the mission files I need will be there. That's where I was… _stored_ for so long. I'm going to go see if the answers are there."

"Then we'll go together," he informed him.

"I can't let you do that," Bucky told him. "I'm not sure how long it will take to get there. And I'm not sure what I'm going to find when I do."

"All that does is just prove that you do need help," he pointed out. "I can get us to Siberia. Were you planning on _walking_ there?"

The look that Bucky gave him before dropping his head told him that he in fact had been.

"You don't have to do this _alone_ anymore. What's the point of living to almost a hundred if you don't do it with your best friend?"

Bucky sat there for a long time, and Steve hoped that he was considering this new offer.

"At least tell me you took the food out of the oven before you came up here?" Bucky then asked.

"Yes. But thanks to you, Jerk, it's getting cold," he joked, catching a bit of a smile on his friend's face.

Standing up, Bucky started to head over to the fire escape ladder.

"So, how are _you_ getting _us_ to Siberia?"

* * *

The next day, he had finally managed to get Bucky out of the house to go clothes shopping with him. Steve pointed out that between the two of them with only one wardrobe, they were going to be doing a lot of laundry unless Bucky got some of his own. So after a morning run with Sam, they ended up at another group meeting with them quiet in the back again. And afterwards, Bucky had actually requested a bit of time with Sam alone. Steve had waited out in the lobby while they talked for a while, chatting with the girl at the front desk that Sam liked.

After eating lunch, they spent the rest of the afternoon getting him some basic necessities. Both of them ended up getting new toothbrushes after Bucky admitted that he had been using Steve's without him knowing. Bucky had pointed out that they'd shared a toothbrush when they did sleepovers when young. Steve said that they now had a much better understanding of germs and that it was disgusting, earning him a nookie on the head for the comment, like Bucky used to do so long ago. The familiar gesture another reminder to him that his friend was still somewhere inside the hardened, cracked shell.

Earlier in the day while Bucky had been showering after their run, he had contacted Natasha about them getting to the base that Bucky had been 'stationed' at for so long. He refused to use the word ' _stored_ ' as Bucky had. Nat said to give her three days and that she would have everything set up and ready for them. They had told Sam after the meeting and he offered to come with them, admitting he was curious as to the secret Hydra base. Steve hoped that whatever Bucky was looking for was there and that they could all then come home. He was adjusting well to having his old friend back and he could only hope that Bucky felt the same was about having him around.

Lying in his bed that night since Bucky had refused it every other time but the one, Steve picked up his phone from the nightstand, hoping that his plan worked.

 **Steve** : _Ready to run in the morning?_  
**Lucy** : _Not sure. Plane delayed due to storm. Still in Sav._

Steve glowered at the phone at reading that. He had hoped that if Bucky saw Star that it may help to finally trigger a good memory, instead of all of the bad ones associated with the different missions that were haunting him. Even if Star ended up delayed, he still had three days before they would be leaving town.

 **Steve** : _We'll be there. Hope to see you_  
**Lucy** : _Don't you mean 'Hope to pass me'_  
**Steve** : _Just don't shoot me in the back when I do_  
**Lucy** : _No promises. Dinner tomorrow night either way?_  
**Steve** : _Maybe, let's see what the day brings_

Looking back at the text, Steve realized that he had indicated at ' _we'll_ ' be there, while thinking of him and Bucky. But Star had not seemed to think anything of it and probably figured that he meant him and Sam. Letting out a heavy sigh, he berated himself for being that careless. He didn't want to upset Star about not being here for Bucky while being out of town. He could only hope that the weather cleared and that they would both be pleasantly surprised in the morning.

* * *

Sitting in the airport waiting for the thunderstorm to pass over, Star kept worrying about not having heard from Alan yet. Her contact in O'Connell's organization was listening out for the next shipment of girls. They had already learned from Alan that they were heading for one of the shops set up to look like a legitimate massage parlor where the runaways and kidnapped victims were to be used, and possibly held at night at the upstairs apartments. They had known for years that most of them were immediately hooked on some form of drug to help keep them compliant. Don't do the job, and then it was withheld, making them go into withdrawal until they agreed to ' _work_ ' again…all while being locked up so they couldn't leave.

Supplying a dozen girls with illegal narcotics was cheaper than paying legitimate ones, even with the fake payroll taxes being sent in monthly. Besides, real masseuses didn't let the customer do whatever sexual act they wanted to them either. The illegal under-the-table money they were raking in with just this one shop was estimated to be over a hundred thousand a month…and Star was hoping to take down the fourteen other locations accredited to O'Connell's organization as well.

Once Alan gave her a call, then she would hopefully be able to start working on the warrants for the container once it was off the ship and being held in customs. Linking it with O'Connell when they arrived to take possession of it, they would then have combined agency raids that would need to take place simultaneously to prevent any of the O'Connells from getting away.

There were almost two hundred girls being held as sex slaves in the very town she called home, and Star would not stand for that. The fact that a couple of the surveillance tapes showed political figures going in and out really pissed her off. They _had_ to know that the girls weren't there because they _wanted_ to be. Thanks to the large number of paid off judges, they always had a hard time getting a warrant. She would have to deal with them after the O'Connell's bribe money stopped flowing in.

After another hour had passed, Star heard the announcement that her flight would begin boarding in ten minutes. Glancing at her watch, she would be getting home about midnight, but at least she would be home. On her other wrist was a pink plastic bead bracelet that Sara had made for her to go along with Scary's. Star had not yet removed the numerous braids that Sara had practiced using her hair. She would do that on the plane ride to give her something to do.


	50. Its Been Thirty Years...

**Song: _Far Away_ by Nickleback**

* * *

Slapping the alarm next to her bed, Star pushed the alarm clock off of the nightstand…on purpose…again. Why did the damn thing have to keep working? This one was lasting much longer than all its predecessors. By the time that it sounded the piercing buzz, she had only been in bed for about five hours. Steve and Sam started out at about six, so she had set her alarm for five-thirty, giving her enough time to complain, get dressed, and then get to the tree where they started and finished at.

But with the plane being delayed by hours due to the heavy thunderstorms passing over, by the time she had gotten her luggage and gotten home, it was just before one a.m. when she crawled into bed. It was a weekday morning and she still needed to be at work at nine. She thought about just blowing Steve and Sam off today and get a few more hours of sleep, but then Scary's voice came back to her pointing out that she needed to ' _do better_ '. It had been a driving force to her for years. It was because of him that he had taken up running in the first place.

When the two of them had run through the woods, it had been so long since she'd had any type of real exercise that she had quickly almost given up. But Scary had just kept telling her…no, _making_ her do better. And when she had come home, she had. It had taken almost a year, but eventually she had been able to go for miles without collapsing. Participating in smaller half marathons before moving on to the longer endurance ones. It also helped that after so long of being confined in small places or to objects that being outside in the open was a wonderful feeling.

Picking up her burner phone, Star found it still empty of calls and messages. If there had been any the notification sound would have gone off, but it made her feel a bit better to check for herself. Still nothing from Alan. Hopefully he would be calling soon.

Rolling out of bed, she began to change into her running clothes, her eyes only half open the entire time. It had taken a few extra minutes to braid her hair before rolling it up to pin into a bun so that it would be up off of her shoulders and neck. Longingly staring at the coffee machine, Star knew she didn't have time to make a small cup. Grabbing a bottle of water, she walked out of the house, figuring that she would just get to bed a bit earlier tonight to make up for the lost sleep.

Reaching the tree only a little bit later than normal, Sam was stretching under it waiting for her no doubt, but Steve was nowhere in sight.

"Let me guess, he's already on his fifth lap," she joked with Sam.

"Probably. You ready?" he asked, scrutinizing her appearance. "You look a bit tired."

"Gee, thanks," Star grinned and joked with him. "My plane was delayed for a few hours, getting me in pretty late."

"You could have skipped out on us," Sam told her as they started to head off around the paths in the usual pattern.

"Trust me, I considered it," she told him. "But I figured that it would give _you_ a chance to try and outpace me for once."

"Oh, so that's how it is?" Sam smiled at her as she put on just a bit of speed, making him catch up with her.

While running they talked about her trip, with Sam on her left side since she had quickly learned how Steve liked to taunt him. Star always made sure to keep to the right, while probably getting too much amusement at Sam's expense. The pool was off to her right with a bit of distance between her and it. They had turned off of the path and were about at the half way point of the long reflecting pool when she heard the hurried familiar sound pounding starting to approach from behind her.

Seconds later, Steve whizzed by them, giving his standard taunt of, "On your left".

What she did not expect was a moment later the second figure then passing her other side with an exclamation of, "On your right".

As the hooded form passed between her and the pool, the sound of the strangely familiar voice shook her entire soul.

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Sam called out as he usually did as the two men continued on with their run, not turning back towards them.

With her mind racing, Star felt her feet start to falter, causing her to reach out to grab a hold of Sam to keep herself from falling over.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked as his arm took hers.

"Scary?" she asked in disbelief, still staring at the back of the form ahead of her.

By now, she and Sam had come to a complete stop as she watched the two super soldiers continue on their run. Steve had known that she should be here, but had he not told Scary? He sure didn't give _her_ a warning. Did Scary even recognize her?

That was when Star realized that with her hair up, and passing her from behind, that Scary had indeed _not_ understood who she was… _if_ he even remembered her.

"Sorry, I didn't think to warn you. I've already gotten used to those two jokers. We'll yell at them on the next lap for scaring you like that," Sam then told her, not understanding why she had said what she did.

As she watched, the two of them rounded the pool, then continued to follow it through another turn, now running back towards them with the water separating them. That was when they both looked over to where she and Sam were stopped just watching them running. When Scary began to slow his pace a bit, she wondered if…

Star could see him staring right at her, his face blanching as if he were seeing a ghost. Which is exactly what she was doing. Fully stopping from his run, she could see him talking to Steve, then he suddenly jerked his head at his friend at whatever response he received, looking at him for a moment before turning back to her. Scary then pointed his finger right at her. What did that mean? Did he know her?

"Lucy?" Sam's voice came from beside her. "Are you alright?"

Instead of answering, looking over the water at him, seeing that Scary was still trying to understand what his eyes were telling him, she reached up and pulled out the bobbi pins holding her braid up in the bun. Once she felt it fall behind her, Star reached back and pulled it over her shoulder so that it lay across her front. There was no mistaking the physical step back he took or the panicked look that came over Scary's face at the long forgotten familiar sight.

Star then started to walk forward, in the direction that he and Steve had just past them. She heard Sam keeping up with her, talking, probably asking questions but all of her attention was solely on the lone figure now walking in the same direction she was. It had taken him a few extra seconds to actually begin to move towards her. Neither one of them took their eyes from the other as they turned the corner, now standing in front of each other with just over a hundred and fifty feet between them. The last time they had been this close was as they had driven the cars through Moscow over thirty years ago.

Making her feet continue to move forward, she saw Scary doing the same. She was not sure how long it actually took before they were just about arm's length apart.

After they had been staring at each other for a few moments without Scary saying or doing anything, she started to become worried. She was looking up into his eyes, trying to find anything familiar...but it didn't seem to be there.

"Do you know who I am?" she finally asked and very worried about his answer.

"Star. But you're dead," Scary told her.

Giving him a smile from at least hearing her name, she responded, "Trust me, I'm not a zombie."

Hearing that, she saw a look of pain cross over his face.

" _Night of the Living Dead_?" he asked a few moments later as if trying to pull something from his thoughts.

"You remember," Star sighed.

"No," Scary then said, shaking his head. He firmly avowed, "I killed you."

Hearing that, Star felt a bit of pain in her chest. He _didn't_ remember her?

Reaching up, she placed her hand on his face, causing him to shudder at the touch.

"No, you saved me."

* * *

Bucky stumbled back from the touch of her hand on his cheek, not trusting what he was seeing compared to his memories. He could see a look of sadness cross over _Star's_ face at him doing so as she withdrew her hand from being near him. But how was she here?

"I don't understand. I can't remember enough to understand," he told her, trying to figure out of somehow his mind was playing a trick on him. Or was it Hydra? Thinking that, he suddenly became very defensive. What if this was a trap? What if Hydra was using someone who looked like Star to trap him? "How do I know that it's really you?"

"Ask me about anything that you _can_ remember," she told him, still not looking away from him or phased by his angry tone.

"If I didn't kill you, then why was I pointing a gun at you…at your bare chest?"

"Because of the three men that showed up at the house. One of them had bound my arms over my head after removing my shirt to verify who I was by looking for this," she explained to him as she reached up and pulled the collar of her t-shirt to the side, exposing the pink star tattoo. It looked just like how he remembered it from the memories. His left hand absently started to reach out, needing to touch it, but he stopped himself by balling his hand into a fist.

But actually seeing it brought on another physically painful memory.

 _/..."Mark it up to rebellious teenager years…_  
_…turned eighteen, me and two friends hopped in one of theirs car…_  
_…pink was my favorite color and I thought that a star would be neat"…/_

"You got that with friends of yours," he told her. "Pink is your favorite color."

"See, you do remember, Scary," she smiled up at him.

Hearing that name, pulled another memory from him. He now had a full headache starting.

 _/…"Scary?" he asked not understanding the strange name she called him._  
_"That's what I have been calling you in my head since last night. Also…I was trained to call anyone else Sir."_  
_"Why not just call me Soldier like I said this morning?"_  
_"Soldat. It reminds me of Master's guys. That's what he would call them…his soldiers"…/_

Remembering that, his entire body eased a bit as the familiarity of the nickname cascaded through his thoughts. But why?

"What did you think of?" Star asked him.

"It was the first time you called me that, instead of soldier like I said to," he started to tell her, which brought out the same laugh that he's heard so many times over the past few weeks. But how…

* * *

"Care to explain to me what exactly is going on?" Sam asked him as they stood not too far away watching the couple stare at each other.

"They knew each other," was all that Steve decided to say at the moment, not sure how to fully explain what was going on in such a public place.

"What do you mean they _knew_ each other? _How_? _When_?" Sam asked still watching them.

"There might be a bit of explanations to go around for everyone," he told him. Steve then decided that maybe they needed to move somewhere a bit less conspicuous. Stepping over to them, he cleared his throat to get their attention. They both turned to look at him, as if they had forgotten anyone else was around. "Let's head over to the trees to sit and talk."

With that he started to move, and he heard movement behind him so he guess the group was following him. There was a small line of trees off the path to the memorial with a small slope that they grew on. Sitting down, he watched the small group doing the same. Sam sat off to his right while Bucky sat to his left, with Star across from him as Bucky was next to her.

"So, now can _someone_ explain?" Sam asked looking at all three of them.

"Well, who has a good place to start?" Star then asked.

"I still don't fully understand how you are here," Bucky then admitted.

"I don't understand how she even knows you to begin with," Sam pointed out to Bucky.

"Because he saved my life back in 1983," Star then explained.

"That's how long ago it was?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah. I've waited just over thirty years to see you again," she smiled at him.

"That's why your mission file wasn't on the computer," Bucky then said, but mostly to himself.

"I don't have a mission file," Star then told him, catching Steve's attention. "I'm probably just a minor side-note in Kozlov's file."

"That's what you were looking for?" Steve then asked. "You were searching through your files for Star?"

"Wait…Star? You're telling me that _Lucy_ is _Star_?" Sam then chimed in. Turning to Bucky, "You said you _killed_ her."

" _Still_ not dead!" Star then exclaimed throwing her hand in the air. Pointing her finger at Sam, she asked, "And how do _you_ know that name?" then she turned her accusing finger on him, "I thought that you were going to let _me_ decide what he needed to know since I didn't _trust_ Sam."

" _You_ didn't trust _me_? Right now it seems I'm the _most_ _damn trustworthy_ _person_ in _this_ group," Sam comically defended himself.

"Sam knows that name because we talked about you," Bucky told her. "I had a bad memory come to me the other day at lunch. Afterwards, Sam and I talked for a while. I told him about what I had remembered. But the memory was about how I was supposed to kill you…as are almost all of my memories of you. Why didn't I?"

"Because you felt sorry for me," Star said, which Steve did not agree with, but he could hear a bit of wavering in her voice.

"Because…" he started but then Star stopped him with a look of fear, as if she were worried about what may happen if he spoke his previous suspicion aloud right now. Instead, he let it drop, without revealing to Bucky that he may have been in love with her years ago. But if that's what Star needed right now, for them to reacquaint themselves, he would let them figure it out on their own…as long as they did.

"So, am I going to get an actual story at some point?" Sam then asked.

"I have a feeling that Star is going to have to tell it," Bucky said.

"Have you remembered the mission where you were sent to kill Yuri Kozlov?" Star asked Bucky. "He was about to turn over Hydra information to S.H.I.E.L.D. and they found out. They only knew where he was going to be so they sent you to wait for him. It was at a house in the Russian woods."

Steve could see Bucky's mind racing, his eyes darting around as he seemed to be recalling this mission. He noticed that Bucky did not seem to have the same look of pain right now as he had other times over the past days since arriving at his apartment when recalling a mission. Now that he thought about it, while he had been on the computer reading, none of those files seemed to hurt him. What was going on with his memories?

"Kozlov showed up after his guards did. I killed all of them before moving in to finish him. He was passed out drunk in a chair by the fireplace," Bucky told her.

"That's right. But I was there too. Do you remember where?" she asked, not leading him to the answer, but trying to see what he could recall on his own.

Now Bucky _did_ seem to have a more painful expression for some reason. If he had to guess, remembering Star seemed to physically hurt him for some reason.

"A dog cage," he answered looking at her with pain written all over his face.

"He had you in a dog cage?" Sam then asked looking shocked himself.

"How else would you move a ' _pet'_ around?" Star smugly joked with him, but he could see that the idea behind it disturbed Sam.

"I let you out. I untied you. But why didn't I just shoot you then, like the others?" Bucky asked her.

"Because the mission statement was for Kozlov and his guards. Since you had not been expecting me to be there, you decided to let me live until it was time for your extraction, then you would have to finish the mission."

"What were you doing in Russia in 1983? How old were you?" Sam then asked.

"I was kidnapped after going to a concert in Atlanta in 1978 and sold to Kozlov. I was eighteen when that happened. I'd been with Kozlov for four years before he died. He had actually planned on killing me, but luckily Scary got to him first," Star said with a smile.

"We spent time together, didn't we?" Bucky asked her a bit hesitant.

"Yes, just over a week," she told him.

Steve could see him trying to remember but it was obvious that he didn't recall anything. How could he remember the mission but have forgotten Star? Had he really not cared for her that much and mostly forgotten her? He only seemed to remember trying to kill her, but nothing of the intimate times they had spent together.

"Kidnapped?" Sam then chimed in. "What would a Russian guy want with you?"

Star then got a snarky look on her face before answering, "A man has a penis and a woman has a vagina. And not only is a sex slave probably cheaper than a girlfriend, you can do _whatever_ you want _to them_ when you're a sick, twisted bastard."

Even with all of the rough stuff Sam helped others with, he looked like disturbed when Star said that. Bucky's own face drew up, scrunched and hurt at hearing the brazen admission, but he remained silent. Had he remembered something?

"How did you end up running with Sam?" Bucky asked trying to change the horrible subject.

"I met Steve a few weeks back, hoping to find out if you had finally escaped from Hydra," Star explained. "I've kept a look out for any sign, story, or picture of you through the years. But after their exposure, I hoped that you were finally free. And thought that maybe you would go to Steve for help."

"So, you've known about Star since I showed up?" Bucky accused him sounding a bit angry.

"Yes, but you kept refusing to talk with me about your missions and the _one time_ I tried to push the issue, to bring up _Star_ , you told me about _Howard_ ," Steve defended himself.

Watching as the understanding fell over his face, Bucky eventually dropped his head, realizing that Steve had been correct.

"That's why you weren't worried when I asked about Lucy's ulterior motives? You already knew about the two of them knowing each other?" Sam then asked him.

"Yes," he answered.

"What ulterior motive?" Bucky asked Star.

"Sam was afraid that I wanted to turn you over," she told him, which made Bucky look a bit hesitant.

"To who?" he asked.

"I'm a special agent for the F.B.I.," she then explained, which really brought on a panicked look.

"Buck, it's fine," he assured him while taking a hold of his arm to keep him from running, which is what he looked about ready to do. "Trust me, even if you don't remember all of the details yet, Star is _not_ going to turn you over."

" _Definitely not_ ," she assured him, resting her hand on his, to which Bucky slightly jumped at the contact while pulling away. He had not pulled away from Steve's touch, only Star's. It was almost as if he was scared of Star for some reason. He saw the sad expression from Star at the action.

"That's why you work in the sex-trafficking branch!" Sam then exclaimed as he put her job and background together.

"What?" Bucky then asked.

"When I got back home, I went to college, and when I joined the F.B.I. I specifically requested to work in the department that handles human sex-trafficking cases. I now help to stop what happened to me from happening to others," she explained to him. "All because of what you did for me."

"Then why do I have so many memories where I'm thinking about killing you, or hurting you, or chasing after you?" Bucky then asked Star.

"Because for seven of the ten days that we spent together, you _were_ supposed to kill me," she explained which of course made Bucky panic again. "But after the others showed up and tried to kill…well, us, you decided to help me get back home. You remember chasing me because you tried training me to avoid being captured again."

"He trained you?" Sam then asked.

"Yes, Scary taught me how to shoot, using the guns he had brought as well as what Kozlov's dead guards had on them," she explained.

"My sniper rifle," Bucky then spoke softly through gritted teeth. "I taught you how to shoot it."

"What exactly do you remember?" Star asked a bit hesitant, but Steve could see something hopeful in her eyes.

Bucky closed his eyes as he pictured the scene probably, before his forehead creased in pain, answering, "We were at a lake. We had shot the gun for a while. Then I left you for a bit…and when I came back you were gone. No, wait. You were up a tree because of a snake."

Hearing his words, Steve watched the hopefulness leave Star for some reason, but she did give a sad smile at his answer. Why would she seem sad at Bucky recalling her?

"That's right. You do remember," she said. Steve wondered what it was that she had been hoping for Bucky to actually remember, but he would wait until a bit later to ask her. So far it looked like all of his memories did not focus on any type of affections they may have shared.

"Does this mean that our trip to Siberia is off?" Sam then asked Bucky.

"Yeah," he said looking over at Star, "it is."

Star's phone then started to go off in her pocket, so she pulled it out and looked at the screen.

"Damn, something's come up," she told them while typing something on the device. Looking up at the group, but specifically Bucky, she said, "I need to head to work."

"Can I see you again?" Bucky hesitantly asked.

"Anytime you want, Scary," she smiled at him before standing up.

The three of them also stood, but Steve got her attention by asking, "Can I talk with you for a moment?"

"Sure, you can walk with me for a bit, if you want," she offered.

"That works," he said as they then turned to Bucky. "I'll be right back."

"I'll…um…call me anytime you want to talk," Star said, not seeming to know what to say to him now that she had to leave. "Steve has my number."

"Ok," Bucky simply said, and Steve could tell that something was troubling him.

He and Star then started to walk towards the direction of where she lived, getting a bit of a distance between them and Bucky before he spoke, making sure to not be overhead

"Why didn't you tell him?" he asked her.

"Because I'm not going to try and push an emotion onto him that may have never been there to begin with. You saw how he pulled away every time I tried to touch him. Considering the fact that he remembers Kozlov but not really me…" she told him as they walked away. But Steve could hear the pain in her voice as she spoke. "Besides, he has his entire future ahead of him now, just like I did, maybe even more. If he doesn't remember _us_ , then maybe there was nothing there for him to."

"I don't believe that and I don't think that you really do either," Steve offered, hoping that it was true. "He just needs to spend more time with you."

"No, the memories seem to be there, it's just his feeling that are gone…or maybe they were never there to begin with. He's gone. That's not Scary. That's Bucky."

Steve watched her hand swipe over the corner of her eye at a single tear which had formed. He was not about to let it end like this.

"Will you come to my…well, I guess our place, since Bucky is staying with me, for dinner tonight?" he asked.

Glancing over her shoulder, he did the same and saw that Bucky was intently watching Star walking away from him.

"Yes," she answered looking forward again. "He'll probably have a lot more questions for me. I won't deny him answers. But I'm not going to push them."

"Maybe you _should_ try to remind him," he pointed out.

"Just knowing that he is safe is enough for me," she told him, but he remembered that dinner they shared when she had cried for missing Bucky. "I'll see the two of you tonight."

"Alright," he told her, a bit sad at the outcome.

Hopefully tonight, they may have a chance to work things out a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI – When Steve and Bucky were still across the reflecting pool, Steve told him that he was looking at Lucy, the female he'd been talking about for the past few days. Bucky was shocked and that's why he looked over at Steve. That's why later on Bucky is not confused by the Lucy/Star name.


	51. What Are Steve and Star Hiding?

**Song: _Breathe_ by Through Fire  
**

* * *

When he had first looked over the pool to see who was running with Sam, it had been like looking at a ghost, almost as if his mind were playing a trick on him. But as he watched as she had pulled her long braid to rest over her shoulder, the moment he saw it he knew that it could only be Star. She looked almost like his memories of her but as a grown woman instead of the young girl.

Star was actually _alive_ somehow, which was a complete shock to him considering what he had believed for the past few weeks.

Hearing her familiar voice talk about their time together, a couple of painful flashes had come back to him, but felt that there had to be just a bit _more_ …but he couldn't quite see it. It was as if they were locked away somehow. When he had read over his other missions yesterday, it had only taken that bit to help him recall all that had happened on them. But hearing this one first hand, he could only recall Kozlov, not Star. Why? And not a single one of his other missions caused him a second of physical pain.

Watching Star now walking away from him with Steve at her side, Bucky felt every fiber in his body telling him to run to her and stop her, but he didn't understand why. She had even touched his face and arm. Was she not frightened of the monster that was supposed to have killed her? Her actions seemed to be saying that. So what was he missing?

Steve was now walking back towards him and he seemed a bit gloomy for some reason.

"What?" he asked, the sudden thought of Star changing her mind about seeing him again causing him to slightly panic.

"Star is going to come over to our place for dinner tonight," Steve told him with a smile, which helped to ease the growing tension in his chest that had started. He _was_ going to see her again.

"Just so you know, _I_ am _not_ going to be the one to _call Nat_ and tell her to _stop_ planning the trip. I enjoy all of my fingers working properly," Sam informed them as he then headed off to finish his morning run, leaving them standing under the tree to talk in private.

"Steve, why do I feel that there's something…missing, or more, to what Star was saying about our time together?" Bucky asked him as they started to walk instead of run.

"Star doesn't want to… _push_ on the memories too much. She wants you to remember without being…led," he told him.

"Led? To what? What's wrong with her just telling me about everything that happened?" he asked still feeling like he didn't fully understand their time together.

"That would be a conversation the _two of you_ should have tonight," Steve answered him, still not really giving him a real answer.

Turning his head, he could see Star at the far end of the park about to head down a path out of sight. Just as she was about to disappear behind some bushes, Star turned her head to look back at him. Even from here he could see the redness on her face as if she were crying...and for some reason it physically hurt his chest. Star was then lost to his vision as she continued on. Reaching up, he put his hand on his aching chest, trying to rub away the strange hurt that was there.

When they got back to Steve's apartment, he barely listened as Natasha yelled at Steve over the phone for wasting her time starting to work on their trip. But when he told Steve to explain why he had wanted to go, and then finding out that Star/Lucy was alive, she had quieted down quickly and wanted the full story.

They both had taken showers to get clean up and then Steve started to straighten up the place a bit, getting it presentable for Star. Against his protests, Steve opened up the blinds and pointed out that it would be more inviting than the dark hole that Bucky had turned the apartment into. He tried pointing out that anyone could see inside but Steve just told him to trust that everything would be fine.

The rest of the day then seemed to drag by as he found himself staring at the clock every couple of minutes, anxiously waiting for Star to arrive. He spent most of the day just sitting in the chair, writing down his memories of her from this morning into the book where he had drawn the pink star. So many small pieces had emerged, but not a full picture.

He even re-read the previous writings hoping to get a better picture of their time together. It didn't help. Needing something to do, he had actually agreed to accompany Steve to the local grocer to get something to make for tonight. Bucky felt as if his body was overly anxious and it was about to drive him crazy.

Late in the afternoon trying to calm down, he had laid on the couch with his eyes closed. But his mind started recalling every detail of her story from this morning about how they had met. A couple of more painful flashes came to him as he manged to recollect some of when he trained Star: them in the woods as she aimed at trees, watching her learn self-defense moves, tracking her footprints down a path.

But there still felt like a large piece of the puzzle was missing. Summoning a mental picture of the red dress she had worn from one of his earlier visions, he focused on it. With the sharpest pain yet he saw a bit more of that moment…when they had _danced_ together. He had held her in his arms as they danced in a dark room with a fire going. That was why the song from the diner had been so familiar, _they had danced to it_ for a long time. Why would they have done that if he only _'felt sorry for her'_ as Star had phrased it?

He moved to sit upright on the couch, holding his throbbing head in his hands. Even extracting that little bit of them dancing physically hurt him, giving him the worst headache he'd ever had. He almost felt like he'd had a short session in the Chair for some reason.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked from the kitchen where he was now trying to get their dinner going. How long had he been on the couch?

Standing up, he walked over to the open shelves that made the walkway to the back door. Once he quit trying to picture their time together, his head would ease off after only a few moments. Why did it hurt him to remember her?

"I want to know what I can't remember…about Star. Why is this one mission haunting, and physically hurting, me so much more than any other the others?" he rhetorically asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Maybe it meant more to you than the others," Steve answered as he chopped vegetables, which really got his attention, snapping his head up to gape at his best friend.

" _Meant more_? What do you mean?" he then directly asked, to which Steve turned a bit away as if trying to hide. "Steve, what are you not telling me?"

"You need to talk with Star about it, not me," he told him, still refusing to look over at him.

The Punk was never very good with hiding something.

As he was reaching out to take Steve's shoulder to turn him around and demand that he tell him, there was a knock at the door, freezing his hand in the air.

Star.

Bucky felt an anxious happy panic come back over him at finally seeing her again.

Steve turned to look in the direction of the sound, but he started to move towards it first, a strong yearning of need taking him to her.

Yanking opening up the door, he saw the startled look from his hasty action on her face, her eyes a bit wider than normal. It was her. Star was wearing a button down blouse and pants, very professional looking, her long hair braided up into a bun, and for some reason it did not seem right to him.

After a few long moments of studying her standing there with him blocking the doorway, Star smiled up at him while drumming her fingers on her purse and asked, "So, are we eating in the hall?"

That shook him out of the daze he had gotten into after finally being near her again.

"No," he mumbled, stepping back so that Star could step inside. She hung her purse up on the same peg occupied by the jacket he had been wearing this morning. Walking into the den behind her, he saw Star peek over towards the kitchen at where Steve was looking at them a bit defensive, as if he were worried as to what was about to happen for some reason.

"Hey," Steve said in way of greeting, "how was your day?"

Star slowly walked over to where the kitchen table was, leaning slightly against it as if she were nervous to be here.

"Overall, partially miserable with a bit of irritation...so basically a normal day," she jokingly told Steve with a cute sly grin while he moved to where the shelves ended the kitchen area.

For the next few minutes, they chatted as if they had done so many times before. Bucky then realized that since they had known each other for a short while that they probably had. He saw her look at him numerous times, as if waiting for him to join the conversation. But he had no good idea as to what to say. And then there was the fact that seeing the two of them interacting together brought on a strange bit of jealously, which made no real sense to him.

Remaining silent, he just listened to the sound of Star's voice, the tone of it giving him a calming sensation for some reason. Nothing that she and Steve spoke of had anything to do with their time together, so he didn't receive any more headaches, which was good. Steve finished up with the salad, placing the large bowl on the table before going back for the plates of spaghetti. Feeling the need to do something, Bucky decided to grab the basket of bread, putting it on the table.

Steve had grabbed beers from the fridge for all of them before he and Star sat down at the table. It only had four chairs, two on each side, and the two of them sat across from each other near the window, leaving him to sit next to one of them. Even though he wanted to sit next to her, he chose the chair next to Steve. He thought that for a second he glimpsed a bit of sadness cross Star's face at his choice.

About halfway through the meal that he was silent the entire time for, Steve finally asked him, "So, are you going to be a breathing lump in the room all night?"

"You'll get used to it," Star then said, catching his attention.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"There were plenty of times when we would be in the same room for hours on end, without you saying a single word at all," she told him, ripping off a piece of bread to eat. "Actually, you did that _most_ of the time."

It more than disturbed him a bit to think that he had spent so much time with someone and could barely recall any of it. But there was one thing he had remembered…

"Was there a chain on your ankle?"

Steve turned to look at him at hearing that, before looking back over at Star.

"Yes. Kozlov had chains secured to the floor in the den and bedroom to keep control over his pets when he took us there. You used them to keep me from running away," she admitted.

"You chained her up?" Steve angrily asked him, but all Bucky could do was stare at him with her positive admission, figuring that Star wouldn't lie about something like that.

"Stop that!" she then pointed her finger at Steve, getting the Punk to look at her, looking a bit scared of her while defending his actions for some reason. "You weren't there so no judging or I will shoot you! Got it?"

Steve just raised his hands up defensively but silently agreeing with a smile at the comment, letting Star continue.

"After a few days together, when you were in the house, I could move about freely. But when you did the perimeter walks to make sure we were alone, that's when you used the cuff. Also at night when you slept in the den and I was in the bedroom."

Hearing that poked at something else but no actual memory surfaced this time. Somehow he knew that she was being honest...but he felt there was more to it. So he decided to ask about another previous memory.

"What about the red dress and dancing?" he asked which created a panicked look on Star's face. "Why were we dancing together?"

As quickly as the panic had come, Star seemed to compose herself before answering, "It was our last night together. We had been training all day and I asked you want you wanted to do. You said that you wanted to dance."

"How did we dance?" he asked. "I remember music…I think."

"There was a cabinet record player with a lot of different records. I pulled a couple that we could dance to."

Again, something seemed to nag at him but somehow he also knew that what Star was saying _was_ the truth. How could that be?

After they both had been quiet for a bit too long, Steve spoke up.

"Star, you said that Bucky trained you. What exactly did he do?"

"The first thing he did was teach me how to drive a car," she told them. "Since I had been taken when I was young, I never had the chance to really do so, just a few quick rides through my neighborhood. We drove around the house on the grassy yards and up and down the long dirt road that led from the paved road to the house. He wanted to make sure that I could escape anyone following me."

Another sharp headache…

 _/…"Just call me Bandit," Star told him putting the car into first gear._  
_He just stared at her not understanding the reference…_  
_…"Kowalski?" but he didn't know that name either…._  
_…"The Driver?" she asked which he did know..._  
_…"Yes, you are the driver, now drive," he instructed, pointing at the road…_  
_…"You really need to watch some movies, dude," Star told him slamming her foot onto the gas_  
_pedal as he grabbed the door handle tightly wondering if this had been a good idea…/_

"You kept naming off…movies?" he asked hesitant that he was wording the question correctly as his head pounded.

"Yeah. They were all movies I'd seen before being taken where they drove fast cars and were trying to escape the cops or bad guys," Star admitted, but again, she seemed a bit sad as she talked. Why?

That was when he noticed the same simple bracelet she had been wearing a bit better. The charm had rotated as she reached for her beer turned to reveal a very familiar red star. Glaring at the other two silver disks, he saw that they were a W and an S.

Winter Soldier abbreviated with his symbol? Even if she did feel that he saved her life, why would she wear such a personal reminder of him. He decided that maybe he just needed to take a chance and ask…

"What are you _not telling me_ about our time together?"

The panicked look on not only Star's face, but also Steve's as if he already knew, told him that he had been correct with his assumption that she _was_ holding back information from him.

"It's nothing," she finally managed to get out, but not sounding very confident with the statement.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Steve give her a pointed look, as if he were silently begging her to say more, to reveal something. But what? He watched as Star scarcely shook her head to let Steve know that she was not going to. Bucky had something deep down telling him that he could at least trust Star…hell, and his so-called best friend Steve, who seemed to know exactly what was going on but both of them were refusing to spill the beans.

Standing up, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a hold of the edge, bracing himself while trying to calm down from the building anger he was feeling. Were they both lying to him? What were they hiding?

"I shouldn't have...I'm going to head home," Star's soft sad voice sounded in the quiet apartment as he heard the sound of her chair scraping over the wood floor as she stood up.

"Star…" he heard Steve sounding pleading, but that was all, as if he were silenced.

Hearing her shoes starting to click across the floor, Bucky knew that he was _not_ going to let this end like this.

He was going to get the answers that he needed, whether Star wanted to give them to him or not.

Turning, he swiftly moved to go between the two shelves at the back of the kitchen, ending up blocking Star from the small hall to the front door. She may look startled by his unexpected action but she didn't look scared.

Overcoming the strange fright he had at touching her, he grabbed Star's hand and began to lead her to the only place in the apartment they could have a private chat. He could see the worried look on Steve's face at the action as they moved but he would never hurt Star…would he?

Dragging her into the only bedroom, he closed the door behind them, almost slamming the object. Releasing her hand, Star stepped over to the window close to the chair while he stood in the center of the room, staring at her.

"I see we're back to _caveman_ ," Star then huffed out while crossing her arms, bringing on the worst excruciating stabbing memory _ever_ to him.

Pressing the firm base of his palms against his temples, he almost doubled over as the image rushed painfully through him…

 _/ …"I don't think that a caveman would need to wait until reaching the house…"_  
_…Star seductively smiling up at him from the ground as he lay on top of her…_  
_…"So you agree then?" he asked…_  
_…Star slowly reached into his pants, grabbing his hard shaft…_  
_…"That must be painful. Need some help, Scary?"…_  
_…"If you don't stop that right now, you are going to see how much of a caveman I am, Star"…_  
_…pressing firmly down onto her, feeling Star's body against his…_  
_…"What? Worried about the squirrels watching?"…_  
_…Star's fingers glided around his shaft, giving a slight tug. He growled out at_  
_the pleasure of her hand touching him, wanting to take her again right there…_  
_…lowering his masked face close to her ear so that he could whisper into it…_  
_…"Just figured that the ground might be rough on your back"…_  
_…"Why would you think I was going to be the one on the bottom?" Star smiled at him…_  
_Leaning up slightly, she took his earlobe into her mouth to suck on it as she firmly stroked him.../_

Opening his eyes as he pressed on his pounding head, his breathing now heavy, he glared at Star standing there, looking over at him with worry on her face. Bucky took a couple of steps away from her until the back of his legs touched the bed, not sure if he could really believe the memory.

There had been something…sexual?…between them.

"Damn it, I'm sorry," Star lowly said, "I didn't think before…"

Star looked upset and stepped away from the window, trying to get to the door. As she was pulling it open, he reached over and forcefully pushed it closed again, stopping her from leaving.

Steve's voice then came through the door, asking, "Star, are you alright?"

"Yes, we're fine," she answered, standing so close they were almost touching with her looking up at him right in the eyes, and not a bit of fear in them.

"You're not _scared_ of me?" he seriously asked her.

For some reason, that made her give a low chuckle as he noticed her eyes soften even more.

"No, Scary," she told him. "I'm not scared of you. Actually, I lied to you thirty years ago."

Hearing that made his entire body tense up, as he angrily asked, "What do you mean?"

"I told you that I would try to be scared of you, in case Hydra sent the Winter Solider after me, to get rid of the only witness from that mission," she answered. "But, I lied. I could never be scared of you."

"Why?"

Now Star turned away, not answering this question. Again, she was hiding something.

Frustrated, he stepped over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it as Star looked out of the window. He couldn't help it any more. He needed to know.

Anger was heavy in his voice as Bucky asked:

" _Why_ won't you tell me? What did I _do_ to you? Did I _hurt_ you?"

"Yes...you did."

Hearing that, Bucky glared up at her, shocked at that admission as Star turned to look at him. Her face looked so pained that it brought back that ache in his chest for some reason.

But slowly he watched as her eyes took on a slight watery look to them as she spoke.

"Every time I thought of you over the years, leaving me to go back to that fucking base to be locked up in a freezer, instead of _staying with me_ …it _hurt_ me. Thinking of you sitting in that chair, _letting them_ strip me from your mind…it _hurt_ me. Knowing that if I _ever_ saw you again, that it would mean the only man I ever really _loved_ was there to _kill_ me… _it_ _fucking_ _hurt_ _me_!"

He could only stare up at her in silence at that stunning admission as Star fell back against the window, wrapping her arms around herself, and as she began to cry.


	52. Just Like Old Times...

**Song: _If Ever_** **_You're_ ** **_In My Arms Again_ by Peabo Bryson**

* * *

_"Every time I thought of you over the years, leaving me to go back to that fucking base to be locked up in a freezer, instead of **staying with me** …it **hurt** me. Thinking of you sitting in that chair, **letting them** strip me from your mind…it **hurt** me. Knowing that if I ever saw you again, that it would mean the only man I ever really **loved** was there to **kill** me… **it** **fucking hurt me**!"_

Star turned around dropping her forehead against the cool glass of the window a little too hard, cursing herself for just blurting out her feelings like that. It was exactly what she had been trying _not_ to do. Maybe some part of her didn't care and wanted to make Scary remember her no matter what…or how hard it may be for the both of them.

How damn foolish of a girl was she? There was no happily ever after for her.

Sitting across from his cold blue eyes at dinner as he glared at her like a stranger to be wary of…she had almost gotten up a few times to leave, not able to handle all of this. She didn't know if she should be angry or happy that he had not remembered her. To Scary, it seemed that she would be nothing more than a witness he let live from a mission. Maybe now that he was safe with Steve it would be better to just finally forget about him.

Because he sure had forgotten her.

Balling her hands into fist, digging her nails into her palms to bring a pain to give her something to concentrate on, Star inhaled deeply trying to regain control of herself. She wasn't sure how long went by before she heard his soothing voice finally break the silence between them.

"Star, did I love you?"

Hearing that simple question, all she could do was give a laugh since she didn't know how she should answer that.

"I don't know," she answered wiping away some of her tears.

"What do you mean? How would you _not_ know?" he asked her.

Giving out a slight chuckle as her forehead rocked back and forth on the window, she sarcastically replied to him, "You couldn't even remember what your _own name_ was, so how were you suppose to even know what _love_ was?"

It was still in the room for a bit before he quietly asked, "Did I ever say that I did? Did I show it in some way? And I'm not talking about us being intimate."

Star slowly turned around, staring at the floor instead of Scary's cold blue eyes, which would probably only make all of this harder.

"The only thing close that I can think of is how worried you were that they would send you after me," she told him.

"What do you mean? What did I say to you?"

"That last day together, you kept trying to get me to maneuver out of your choke-hold almost all morning. After lunchtime, we talked and you finally explained about the Chair to me. You told me that it would make you forget, not only about the entire mission but including me as well. You said that there was a chance that by getting me out of there, that Hydra could send someone, even you, to kill me for possibly knowing too much, _especially_ if I mess up the story you worked out for me to tell. The thought of you being sent to kill me upset you enough that you finally came up with a way to try to help me escape you in case they _did_ send you out after being wiped," she explained to him.

"What did I do?" he quietly asked.

"You told me that if I ever saw you again up close to say three particular words, hoping that by hearing them that it would give you pause as to why I knew them so that I would have time to escape from you," she told him, finally getting enough courage to look up at him. She could easily see by the expression on his face that _none_ of what she was telling him was familiar.

"What words?"

Taking a deep breath, she softly spoke, "Furnace…longing…one."

As soon as the last word left her mouth, Scary began to scream out in pain as his hands grabbed his head, doubling over as he barely managed to stay sitting on the mattress.

The door to the bedroom slammed opened, Steve standing there looking over at his best friend as he continually grunted out in pain, still gripping his head as he shook it, his breathing very ragged.

"What happened?" Steve asked her, slowly moving between her and Scary as if he were worried that he would suddenly lurch for her.

"I was telling him about something that happened on that last day together. Something that he had told me to tell him if Hydra ever sent him after me," she explained as Scary started to get quiet. His breathing was still extremely heavy, as he sat on the bed but he no longer seemed to be in pain.

"Bucky, are you alright?" Steve asked him.

They watched him sitting quietly, his head turning left and right but his eyes were still closed. Star would guess that he was recalling something, but after a scream like that she had no idea what.

"Buck, do you need help?"

Starting to shake his head, it took him a few moments to verbalize...

"No," he finally managed to get out. "I...I remember."

" _What_ do you remember?" Steve then asked him.

He didn't raise is head or open his eyes as he began to speak.

"Back at the base, when I sat into the Chair to be wiped. I didn't want to forget Star. So as they wiped me, I recited the three words I told her about, over and over, thinking of every moment I spent with her while hoping to keep her safe if they sent me after her. The wipe didn't work the first time. My Handler thought it may have been due to being out on such a long mission. They had to use the Chair twice before she was gone. But I kept thinking of those words each time, trying to keep Star in here," he was tapping his finger to his head.

Scary then opened his eyes and regarded her with something familiar in those blue orbs, which were not as cold towards her as they had been since arriving.

"Hey Punk, could you give us some privacy?"

Steve looked over his shoulder at her, wanting to know if she were sure with allowing the request after such an outburst.

"We'll be fine," she told him, giving Steve a reassuring gentle pat to his back. Steve then slowly walked to the door, glancing between them one more time before closing it as he left.

Looking back at Scary, he was now solely fixated on her standing there across the small bedroom. She knew _that_ look. It had been so long since she had last seen it.

"You are doing that predator thing again, Scary," she informed him carefully, not sure what would happen by using that word.

Hearing the familiar term, Scary gave her a twisted smile as he slowly stood up, taking carefully calculated steps towards her. Her own body's posture straightened so her back was against the solid wall. Stopping only once he was looming over her, his eyes scanned her body before reaching down. Just having him stand so close turned her breathing heavy. He gently took her wrists into his hands and slowly began to lift them up until he eventually had them, and her, pinned against the wall. The feeling of his warm body so close to hers was bringing back so many delicious memories.

But it was his piercing eyes, with his pupils growing wide as she watched them, that drew her attention.

"That's because I'm the worst predator out there," his breath was heavy as he repeated the phrase from that day long ago.

With that, Scary finally pressed his body into hers, his lips crushing onto hers in a desperate kiss, which she eagerly returned after so long of dreaming about it. His lips locked possessively onto hers, his tongue demanding entrance and she fervently accepted. His scratchy beard tickling her face was just as she remembered it. Her body began to grow hot, not only from his own comforting body heat, but as every nerve in her body was screaming for more. As they stood there, kissing and being so intimate, Star could almost believe that no time had passed since they last were together.

Eventually their lips parted, allowing them to breathe for a moment.

Why had he done that? What did it mean? Fearing one possible answer...

"Is it you, Scary? Do you _really_ know who I am?" she managed to finally ask.

"My Star...do you really have to ask after kissing like that?" he grinned at her with a look that make her knees go weak.

She did not recognize that smile. That look was pure Bucky.

His eyes then locked on something and she followed their gaze to the bracelet that she was wearing...his bracelet. Using his metal finger to jingle the dangling items, she saw his smile brighten as he understood that she had not forgotten about him. After a moment, he turned back to her as he captured her lips with his again, this time the kisses were soft and warm. Enjoying the feeling of his body and lips trapping her, she opened up her mouth to hungrily accept his probing tongue again as the minutes began to pass them by.

But now, a whole new set of troubles emerged. Scary looked as if he'd barely aged a year or so, whereas she was an old spinster, just like her mom loved pointing out.

So as Scary's mouth left hers, both of them needing air, reality came crashing back down on her.

"Scary, you don't want this…me…" she panted out while shaking her head, "it's been too long…"

"Not for me, it hasn't, Doll," he leaned firmly against her growling in her ear, the vibrations of his words sending a shiver throughout her body. He then pressed his face against the side of hers as he had so many times back then, his body trapping and rubbing up against hers, bringing back even more naughty feelings. In a fierce possessive voice, "As I told Aleksey as I crushed his neck for touching you...for threatening you...for wanting to hurt you…you're _mine_!"

Hearing that, Star truly believed that _her_ Scary was really back, that he _did_ remember everything that had happened between them. His hands then released her wrists and went behind her head, working his fingers over her braided bun. Every time so far today that she had even tried to touch Scary, he had jerked back in fear of her. But as she reached out to place her hands at the back of his neck as he worked on her hair, not a trace of that fear was there. Whatever troubling feeling had been there as gone.

It was her Scary.

Star watched as he tossed the bobbi pins onto the bedroom floor behind him, not stopping until her braid finally fell free over her shoulder. Scary then wrapped his hands around her waist before lifting her up off of the ground, causing her squeal out a bit at the sudden move. She tightened her arms around his neck to hold him close to her, her body still ardently responding to his simple touches.

Carrying her the few steps to the bed, he laid her down on her back before climbing right on top of her, his legs on each side of hers. His lips once again finding hers as they lay there kissing for a few more minutes grinding against each other. Scary's hands began running up and down her body as if trying to reacquaint himself with every curve. Her own hands ran through his hair and held onto his neck, keeping him with her.

When they broke from their kisses, he moved his lips to her ear again, whispering, "You got your wish."

"What wish?" she breathlessly asked not sure what he was talking about.

Leaning up to catch her eyes with his, she saw that deviously evil smile of his, before he told her, "I fucked you so hard that even the Chair could not make me forget you."

Star knew that her face instantly flushed red as her entire body heated at hearing that lascivious comment that she had used so long ago. The grin that Scary gave told her _that_ _reaction_ was exactly what he had wanted to happen.

"That's quite a _potty mouth_ you have on you," she scolded him with her own grin.

"And I'm about to put it to good use," he told her as she felt his hands grab onto the front of her shirt. Before she could even try to talk some sense into him, Scary had pulled it apart, popping the buttons off to reveal her chest. She saw that his eyes were drawn to her tattoo that was fully exposed for him. Leaning down, he began to kiss it, soon followed by the heat of his wet tongue tracing the lines of it. How she had missed him…

After a moment he stopped, lifting his head so that he could look at her. "This was the first thing that I remembered about you."

"My tattoo?" she asked panting for breath.

"Yes," he said giving it another kiss as his hands worked to remove her ruined blouse which was then tossed across the room. "I was sitting in a diner early one morning after having a bad night. There was a radio on in the background. Our song started to play and I drew your star in my book with a crayon, so that I could see it."

"You remember the song? The one we danced to?"

"I remember _everything_ now," he grinned at her as he pulled the straps of her bra off her shoulders, pulling them down to reveal her breasts for him. As he looked longingly at them, he continued, "In the back of the car," then giving a kiss to the top of her breast, "on the couch by the fireplace," a kiss to her other breast, "the kitchen countertop," a kiss and lick to her tattoo, "in the shower," a final hard kiss to her lips.

Star began to feel a cooler air on her lower belly before she had even realized that Scary had undone her pants and had pulled them partially down. The cool was then replaced with his warm hand running over her skin, moving steadily downwards.

A familiar nagging voice pushed through everything else she was experience right now to remind her of reality.

"Scary," she began to say, shaking her head, "You don't have to. I was just convenient back then. You can go out and find anyone you want now…someone young and that you can have a family with. You're finally free."

Hearing those words, she watched as a darkness crept over his face, aimed right at her.

"Are you saying that you don't still love me?" he asked her. "Because it sure didn't sound like that a few minutes ago."

"I'm saying that I'm an old spinster now, while you are still young and handsome," she ran her hand over his cheek.

"You do realize that I am," she watched him work something out in his head for a moment, "ninety-seven years old, right? And trust me when I say that you are even more beautiful _now_ than you were _then_."

"But now I'm fifty-four, and you are not that old."

"Actually, I am," he told her with a smile. "So that means _I win_ this time."

With that, he began to kiss her again while his hands started to work at removing his own clothing. Seeing his arm exposed once his shirt was gone, Star could not help but look at it, refreshing her own recollections of it. She had forgotten how roughly scarred the edge of his skin where it met the metal really was. Reaching up, she ran her fingers over it, gently touching it after so long.

"Still not scared of it?" he asked looking down at her.

"Never," she told him with an honest smile.

Scary then moved so that he could stand up next to the bed. Running his hands down her legs, he slipped her heels off, letting them thump onto the floor. Without hesitation, he then grabbed a hold of her pants cuffs, giving a firm yank pulling them off next, not caring if they were torn in the process. She laughed at how determined he was right now.

"Careful," she tried to scold him with a smile, "I would like to have _something_ to wear later."

"Trust me, Doll," he said pulling his own pants and briefs off so that he was now naked, "You're not going to be needing any clothes for quite a while."

As she backed up on the bed a bit more away from the edge, Scary smiled down at her while he moved to kneel on the bed over her legs. It had been so long since anyone, not just Scary, had touched her so intimately that her body was overriding her mom's nagging voice.

She _needed_ this _one moment_ , even _when_ he changed his mind later on.

"If you don't want those last two items torn off, I suggest that you remove them right now," he informed her with a cocky smile that had to be pure Bucky.

* * *

Watching his Star reach behind her to unclasp the bra from around her chest, instead of waiting, he moved in to take a hold of her panties. Leaning over her belly, he began to trail a line of kisses from it down her thighs while pulling the panties down and off, definitely a bit more careful than he had her pants. Maneuvering off the bed only as long as was necessary, seconds later she was lying naked under him again…waiting for him.

He saw that even after all of this time, there was not a bit of hair on her lower body, as he recalled their conversation in the tub. Placing his flesh hand over her mound, he watched her expression as he slowly slid his hand down between her legs, causing Star to inhale sharply and give a startled lurch at the touch.

"Thirty years is _too_ long," he told Star while straddling her legs as he let his hand explore the area he used to know so well.

" _Well_ …" Star hesitantly answered, giving him pause for a moment.

He then grasped that he had not taken the past thirty years into account when it came to what Star may have been through. For him, due to the other times he had been sent out on missions, it had only been roughly two years or less. For Star, she'd had an entire life to live…all of it without him. But, had she lived it alone?

"Star, you're not married are you?" he asked quickly looking for a ring on her hand for the first time since seeing her this morning.

"No…I…um…I never married," she told him, which gave him mixed emotions.

"Why didn't you ever get married?" he asked her removing his hand from between her legs to meet his other as they caressed her lower belly before coming to rest on her hips.

"Um…" she said turning away so that she wasn't looking at him.

" _Star_ , were there others after me?" he asked.

"Yes, but they usually didn't last long," she admitted, making him more curious now.

"Why?" he asked to which she closed her eyes, not answering. Reaching back between her legs, he gave a firm rub, causing her breath to hitch. "Star…answer me. Why didn't they last long?"

"Because they didn't make me feel the way you always made me feel," she responded which made him feel relived but at the same time he saw a sadness pass over Star's face with the admission as if remembering something bad.

"What's wrong?" he requested of her, but then Star went to roll away from him, trying to pull herself higher on the bed and out from under him to escape the questioning.

"Oh, no," he firmly stated, grabbing on her arms as he leaned down to pin her to the bed. "This is not going to be like the other times when you refused to explain something, which we will _finally_ get to later, but this time, I _am_ going to get an answer. So, I first want to know is if there _was_ someone special?"

There was a pained expression as she answered, "Yes, there kind of was," but that didn't exactly answer his question.

Remembering what he used to do, since she was already pinned under his body, he took hold of her hands and brought them over her head as he then leaned down so he could whisper in her ear, "Tell me."

The sound of her giving a sigh, knowing that he would keep her like this until she did sounded wonderful. Just as he recalled her doing a few times. He could sense a calmness come over her body and her eyes were bright, not showing a bit of fear in them. She trusted him now just as much as she had then.

"There was a guy, Eric, just over twenty years ago. He proposed to me. He was an assistant for a congressman. Something normal and respectable, which made my mother so happy, but he was _more_ than a bit boring," she started to tell him. "We dated for about a year, and even lived together for a couple of months at the end of it. I never truthfully explained what had happened to me to him, so when he proposed, I knew that I had to tell him everything, especially that I couldn't have kids, because of my deformity."

"What happened?" he asked dreading her answer. He also didn't like to her Star describe herself with such a revolting term.

"A few days after he gave me the ring, I sat him down and gave him a brief rundown of what Kozlov had done to me. I had originally told him that my back scars were from an accident when I was younger. He didn't know enough about what he was seeing to question the truth of them. He never even paid attention enough to my palms to even notice the scars there."

"What did he say?"

"He stood up and paced around the room for a bit. Then he came over to me, took my hand into his and pulled the ring from my finger. I don't remember what all he said, but I'll never forget the phrase ' _damaged goods'_ that he used before walking out and slamming the door behind him."

Dropping his head onto her shoulder, he couldn't believe that someone who was supposed to have loved Star would ever treat her that way, especially after what she had been put through and survived.

"After Eric, I started to become a lot pickier when it came to guys. A green beret, a Marine, a guy from SWAT. But not one of them could compete with my Winter Soldier."

Hearing that, he crushed his lips onto hers wanting to make Star permanently forget about anyone else who had ever touched her. With his right knee, he moved it across her leg until he was able to slide it between hers as Star spread them open for him. Continuing to roughly kiss her, he did the same with his other leg. Letting her wrists go, he supported himself with his left arm just enough so that he could grip himself as he found her moist, hot slit just waiting for him. As he slipped inside of Star after so long, the same incredible feelings came back to him, but now, having enough of his memories from before becoming the Winter Soldier, he knew exactly what they meant.

Beginning to rhythmically thrust into her, his ears were rewarded with the same pleasurable moans from Star that he had not even known he had been longing for all day since first seeing her across the reflecting pool. Star reached up and grabbed a hold of his hair, pulling him down so that her tongue could invade his mouth, needing the intimacy that she had been searching for since he had left her all alone…

Breaking their wild kiss after a few moments, he pulled his head up to look her in the eyes as he firmly and honestly informed her, "Star, I promised on that last day that I would come back, and now, I really have. And I'll never leave you again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Scary," she told him with a lovely smile as her fingers began to dig into his back. His chest rumbled at the sensation and he remembered her trying to do the same move before when he'd had to stop her so they were not discovered. This time, he didn't have to.

"I intend to keep this one," he said before needing to feel her lips and tongue touching him again, doing just that.

Thrusting hard into her, he delighted in the moans his mouth trapped coming from her. After a while, he urged to explore more of her body. Descending to pin Star's body under his, he made sure to trap her from trying to leave him. Reaching down, he took a hold of her wrists, bringing them up over her head, securing them in his left hand together. Continuing to thrust, he grasped onto her breast as he bent his head down so that he could take her nipple into his mouth as he gave her a firm squeeze. The sensual whimper Star gave was exactly what he wanted to hear from her.

Rocking on the bed, he felt her hips lifting while trying to take more from him. So he gave her exactly what her body wanted, the strokes becoming longer and faster as Star's face began to flush a deep red as she bit down on her lip. Her legs wrapped around his waist, gripping onto him tightly, helping to push with her feet with each thrust. When he heard her breathing becoming so erratic that he knew she was close, he slipped his hand between then, knowing what he needed to do to tip her over the edge.

"Star," he snarled directly into her ear, "You know what I want to hear…"

With those few words, he began to finger her sweet spot as her breath hitched from his touch. It was only seconds later…

"Scary!" Star carnally screamed his name as she orgasmed for him, her channel clamping down on him as he released at the same time seconds before collapsing onto her, feeling totally contented for the first time since April.

Seconds later, the door to the bedroom slammed open again, startling both of them as Steve turned his head to find the both of them still with their bodies locked together lying on his bed. To say that the Punk was shocked would have been the understatement of the year.

"Didn't know you liked to watch…" Star told him after a few moments of awkward silence from all three of them. Steve seemed to come to his senses at that point while turning the deepest shade of red he'd ever seen, his wide shocked eyes suddenly finding the ceiling over the window very interesting.

Clearing his throat, Steve commented, "I guess this means that the two of you finally worked out your issues?"

"We only worked out once, and unless you want to see us working out a second time, and probably a third, I suggest you leave the room," he told his best friend, which made Star hysterically laugh under him. How he had missed her...

"Yep, I'm leaving. It seems that I need to go buy a new blanket for my bed," Steve informed them as he started to shut the door, shaking his head at them. Just before it closed, and with his better-than-average hearing, he heard the Punk mumble, "Told you she wasn't _my_ girlfriend."

He'd get back at him later for letting Bucky even joke about Star being anyone else's but his...even Steve's.

"We just _fucked_ on _Captain America's bed_?" Star then asked very loudly and not believing what she had heard. "I thought this was _your_ room."

"Nope. One bedroom only so I've been sleeping in the den," he told her getting a couple of kisses from her neck. Grinning down at her he asked, "Want to go make him have to buy a new couch?"

* * *

Over the next hour, Steve was sitting on the couch with the television turned up a bit louder than he normally would have it, but he was trying to drown out the sounds that kept emanating from his bedroom. At least he now knew that they were good screams, and not worried about them like he had been with the first one. It also threw him back to the thirties, to the few times that Bucky had brought a dame over when his mom was working the night-shift at the hospital, but those escapades had been quiet and tame. _Nothing_ like what was going on right now.

After whatever memory had hurt Bucky, even with Star telling them they would be fine, he had been worried to leave her alone with him. They had been proving him wrong…over and over and over. For the past few minutes, the sounds had finally stopped, or gotten really low, making him wonder if they had fallen asleep, leaving him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch again tonight…without a blanket.

But he finally heard the bedroom door opening behind him. Turning, he watched the two of them leaning heavily on each other as they walked together into the den, large smiles on both of their faces. Star was wearing her pants, but for some reason she was wearing one of the t-shirts they had just gotten Bucky. He could imagine why...

When Star went to sit down on the couch next to him, Bucky took her hand and pulled her towards the chair he had adopted as his own since arriving, in the corner and all windows visible from it. Sitting down, Bucky then rested Star so that she was sitting in his lap. She easily pulled her legs up and curled into his embrace. Seeing them both so comfortable and happy with each other right now was not what he had been expecting when asking Star to come over.

This was _so_ much better.

"Sorry about the whole… _bedroom_ thing," Star shyly apologized to him.

"She's sorry, I'm not," Bucky widely grinned at him.

For the entire time he'd been here, Steve had never seen him look even a tenth that happy. It made him feel better knowing that his friend was doing so much better…and it only cost him a blanket.

"I'll remember that," Steve pointed a finger at Bucky's crooked smile. "So, care to explain a bit better about what happened in there?"

"I thought we explained this earlier," Star then stated, "A man has a penis…"

"Not that!" he practically yelled waving his hands furiously at her. Her grin was as big as Bucky's from the tease. "What _exactly_ did you remember?"

"Everything...or at least everything about Star," Bucky then told him. "Somehow, when I was sitting in the Chair trying to not forget Star while repeating those three trigger words, it must have somehow locked everything about her away. Not only was it harder to recall Star, but it was physically painful. With the other missions, I can recall most of what happened on them. But now, I remember everything that we did together, as well as all our talks."

"What do you mean by trigger words?" Steve asked him, recalling how Star had mentioned telling Bucky something earlier. Turning to Star, "And how do you know them?"

"Scary told me that last day that there were special words that had meaning for him, even with the Chair wiping him. I called him one of them, _furnace_ , after he laid next to me in the bed one night since he was so warm. The others, he chose."

"Why do the words have meaning for you?" he asked him.

"They were part of my conditioning after being captured. They implanted them into my consciousness to be trigger words, when spoken in order and only in Russian. But Star only knew three of them in English," he explained. "If used properly, they fully activate me…the Winter Soldier part of me…for my Handler to control."

Steve did not like hearing about that, wondering how dangerous it could be for everyone if Bucky was 'activated'. He wondered…

"Is that what they did to you back in April?"

"No," he told him. "Pierce didn't have access to them so they only used the Chair to wipe me after the fight on the street."

"So on the Helicarrier, that was you _without_ being fully controlled?" he worriedly asked.

"Yes. They just wiped me and gave me my targets and mission description," Bucky told him. He could see a bit of worry on Star's face at hearing that. "When we fought, I could still carry out the mission how I deemed necessary. The words make me follow orders explicitly, no deviation. If they say kill, I kill."

"That's why you didn't kill me? That's why you kept saying I wasn't part of the mission," Star then commented.

"Yes. If they had known about you and listed you as a target, I would have killed you right after Kozlov. We never would have met," he admitted to her.

Steve saw how his arms holding Star gripped just a bit tighter at the phrase, knowing now what he could have lost.

"Does anyone have these words?" Star then asked.

"I'm not sure what happened to the book they were written in. I haven't seen it in years, not since they moved my base of operations to the states," he told them.

All three of them seemed to sit and stew about that for a short time. The idea of someone being able to activate the Winter Soldier with just a few words didn't seem to sit well with any of them, especially Bucky.

"So, now what?" Steve then decided to ask, looking at the two of them sitting together.

Star glanced over at the dark night outside of the windows, answering, "Home and then bed."

Steve grinned at the look of panic that Bucky gave at even hearing the idea of separating from Star for any amount of time now that he remembered her.

"You're going to leave?" Bucky bluntly asked, his voice disguising his fear about as well as his face was.

"Steve's place is going to get very crowded if I don't," she grinned, pointing out the obvious to Bucky. She lived nearby and they could easily see each other again, but Steve still saw the disappointment from Bucky. Star then asked, "So you've been sleeping on the couch since getting here?"

"Yeah. I had originally only planned on staying in town until I got access to the files that I hoped told me what happened on the mission where I thought I killed you. After that, I was going to…"

They both could tell that Bucky didn't want to admit aloud to Star that he had planned on running and hiding again. He could see that the knew the final part of his statement.

"Would you _possibly_ want to come home and stay with me…unless that is a _really_ comfortable couch that Steve has?" Star coyly asked him, bring a noticeable relief to Bucky at the offer. Bucky then looked over at him, as if needing approval from a parent to have a sleepover.

"Don't look at me! You're a grown man. Make up your own mind…for once," he jokingly added, earning a groan from both of them. "Besides, I've been trying to point out that you don't have to run anymore. Maybe Star can help you with that."

"If you're sure?" he then asked Star.

"Go get anything you want to bring with you tonight. We'll get the rest later," she then leaned over giving him a kiss. Bucky then scooted out from under Star and headed into the bedroom to pack the few articles of clothes they had gotten him.

"Are the two of you going to be alright?" he decided to ask.

"Yeah. It will be just like old times," she leaned back and got comfortable in the chair. "Scary should be just as safe at my place as he was here. Maybe more since nobody knows of our connection."

"I'm going to see about working out how to make him a legitimate civilian again. I'm not sure if there are any agencies actively hunting him for what Hydra made him do," he informed her. "Nat told me that a lot of them didn't actually believe he existed."

"Since there was no information leaked onto the net linking his two identities together it may be a bit easier to do on the down low," she pointed out.

Steve knew that he could contact Natasha to at least help with some of this. She could easily set Bucky up with an identity, even using his own name maybe. And with all the people out there now, he probably wouldn't even be the only James Barnes in the world. Any higher ups in Hydra who knew of the Winter Soldier's true identity should have already been dealt with.

But he knew of one person that he would probably have to tell about Bucky since he would find out on his own anyways with all the eyes and ears he had around...Nick Fury. Steve decided that he would give it a few days before doing so.

Bucky then came out of the bedroom with his backpack looking fully stuffed from the clothes and notebooks. Walking over, he handed Star her shoes which he had brought with him. She slipped them on before standing up, Bucky instantly latching his arm around her waist.

"I will have to admit, this dinner party went much better than that first one at my house," Star then joked with him, reminding him when he had been at her place and she had cried that night.

"The only casualty was probably my blanket," he shook his head while trying to look sad.

"I'll get you another damn blanket, Punk," Bucky then pointed his finger at him as he started to guide Star towards the front door. "Besides, it'll go with the bed sheets we also owe you."

"What?"

Bucky then pushed Star into the small hallway and he heard the door opening while Bucky laughed at him. It was a sound that he had been missing.

"You still got that burner phone on you?" he asked as Bucky started to follow Star.

"Yeah, but I only have the number to the other burner phone on it," he told him.

"That's fine. Get my real phone number from Star. I'm also going to text both of you Sam and Natasha's numbers in case either of you need to get in touch with anyone for any reason."

"You'll be seeing each other tomorrow," Star called out from the hallway.

Steve knew that it was true, but since Bucky finally came out of hiding, this would be the first time they had really been apart. At least he knew that Bucky was no longer even considering leaving town. Not with the feelings for Star that were so clear to anyone seeing them together.

"See the two of you for the morning run?" Steve asked as he followed them to the front door.

"Yeah, we'll see you at the tree," he told him, as they gripped onto each other, heading away from him and around the corner.

Shutting the door and locking it, Steve couldn't help to feel a bit of loss. But he knew that Bucky was going to be safe and happy. It was a lot better than how he had been suspecting this evening would end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you read, I used the idea that by willingly repeating his trigger words which have a hold over his mind while being wiped helped to 'lock away' his memories of Star instead of erasing them. That was why every time he managed to remember something about Star that it would induce a headache depending on the emotional response to the memory. The 'caveman' memory would have been the worst headache since it involved sexual emotions.


	53. Star's House Guest

**Song: _The Second Time Around_ by Frank Sinatra**

* * *

Stepping inside of the townhouse, Bucky did a quick glance in every direction, making sure that there was nobody waiting in the shadows…like _he_ used to do. Star stepped over to the beeping alarm and punched in her security code to deactivate the alarm. It had been a short drive in her car and he had not noticed any tails following them. Star had taken the most direct route from Steve's place so that he could easily get back there on his own. Glancing around so far everything seemed normal…something he was not used to.

"We're fine here, you're safe," she pointed out closing and locking the front door behind them then turning the alarm back on. Even with her assurance, he still regarded the large room's layout while also glancing up the staircase to the upper level. From beside him, Star took a hold of his hand and pulled him in front of the alarm panel. "So that you know, enter the code then hit off."

"And the code is?" he asked seeing that the alarm was one of the better systems available.

"1031…the date that we last saw each other," Star then stated, shocking him tremendously. His head snapped to look at her standing there with a smile. "I always thought that it was so ironic how I last saw my Scary on Halloween."

Dropping his backpack, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a kiss. She really hadn't forgotten him over such a long time. Every time Star came home, she would be reminded of him.

"I don't keep a spare key around, so we'll have you one made tomorrow," she told him as her arms wrapped around his waist. "That way while I'm at work, you can come and go when you like…but you better always come home."

"Home?" he asked knowing he sounded confused. " _I_ haven't had a home since…"

When he couldn't finish, Star did, "Since right now. I'm sure that Steve would agree when I say that you will always have a home wherever the two of us are."

That gave him a smile, knowing that it did sound like something Steve would say. He was just a bit surprised that Star said it so easily, but then, she'd been waiting for him to make good on that promise for a very long time. He remembered her asking him to come with her back to the states with her then, but he knew the risks and would not put her into harm's way like that. That same part of him wondered what would have happened if he _had_ run, where they would be right now.

When he finally released her, Star led him a quick tour of the open layout of her town-home. The long, narrow den before them led to the kitchen area, and there was a small dining area near the back French doors. The layout allowed a full view from front to back with only the water-closet and coat closet under the stairs as hiding places. The backyard had a wooden fence around it with an alley behind where the garbage can would be picked up once a week, she told him while joking about not attacking the garbage men.

Coming back to the bottom of the stairs, Star then took her purse from the step she had left it on. Grabbing his backpack from the floor, they went upstairs. Glancing over his shoulder near the top, he found that the master bedroom was overlooking the front of the house. In front of them, Star was using a bedroom as an office space, which looked well organized. One entire wall was made up of shelves, filled with memorabilia through the years. He was especially proud to see the numerous awards from the Academy for marksmanship. But off to the far end were some things that he never guessed he would ever see again.

Dog collars.

Stepping over to see them, he saw that they were indeed the very ones from the small graves in the woods in Russia.

"How did you get these?" he asked looking over at Star who had pulled her holstered gun from her purse and was putting it into a wall safe hidden behind some books.

"Barbara was the CIA agent that met me at the gates that day. She was put in charge of personally getting me home. We continued to keep in touch afterwards. The authorities examined all the remains at the cabin as well as exhuming the other girls' bodies. They put the collars, as well as their bodies into evidence, where they were just sitting in a box. After I graduated from the Academy, I asked Barbara if she could see about getting me custody of the girls for me. She used some connections but was only able to get the collars."

"Why would you want them?" he asked.

"Because as far as I was concerned, I was the only one who would ever remember or mourn them. They were never able to identify any of them from the skeletons, so any family they had out there will never know what happened to them. I tried for a few years to go through the red tape on my own time to get custody of their bodies so they could have a proper burial back here in the states, but it never happened. Part of the reasons given were that they could have been Russian citizens and they would not allow them to leave the country without proof of identities. As far as I know, they are still sitting on a shelf somewhere in Russia, forgotten by everyone there."

"You think that they came from the states?" he asked.

"Yes. Kozlov was fascinated with anything American. Food, music, clothes, so why not girls. That's what he did with me, and the group that took me said he was a repeat customer, so it stands that they were American too. And their pet names were in English, not Russian. It's one of the reasons he was trying to turn over the information, so that he could live in America. Come on," she said walking out of the room.

The other bedroom next door was set up as a small guest room. There was a small full bathroom with hall access between them to share. There was a stackable washer and dryer behind the door. Bucky then tossed his pack onto the bed, getting a strange look from Star.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, looking at the bag.

"You said this was the guest room," he pointed out. Star then walked over and grabbed the bag, slinging it over her shoulder and walking out of the room.

"I didn't wait thirty years for you to be down the hall…and don't even _think_ about sleeping on the couch," she smiled at him as she walked down the hall into her bedroom. Even considering that they had just been intimate together, he was not about to presume that Star would open her life up to him so easily. Following behind her, she put his pack and her purse on the bed before heading over the windows and pulling the curtains closed. "Besides…after what we just did to Steve's poor bed, I think we skipped over any awkward adjustment period between us."

Walking over to her, he wrapped his arms around her again, "Just so you know, I'm still trying to get used to this ' _on my own'_ thing that everyone else has. I've been running for the past few months without really stopping. Steve kept trying to say that I could have a normal life, but I haven't had ' _normal_ ' since the early forties."

"That's fine. But I don't think that there's anything normal about our relationship anyways," she told him leaning up to give him a kiss. "I'm sure that you'll be able to figure it out. Anything you need help with or need to talk about, let me know. You don't have to hide _anything_ from me."

"I've gone with Steve to some of the meetings that Sam has and even talked with him a little," he admitted to Star.

"That's a very good start," she smiled up at him.

"So now what?"

"I'm not sure about you but my nerves are shot for the day. I'm thinking a nice hot shower to get cleaned up and then bed. How does that sound?" she asked him, but giving a coy grin. Wanting to make sure his assumption was correct, he glanced over her shoulder into the bathroom, seeing a large tiled walk-in shower with a glass door. Star then took his hand and began to walk backwards while leading him into the room. "Yes, it's big enough for two."

Without hesitation, they both stripped down out of their clothes while the water warmed up. He let Star step into the shower first to rinse off as he looked over at the light switches. There was a single small light over the large garden tub so he turned it on while turning off all of the other bright lights, giving them a darkened room. The remaining light shining off of Star's body as she untangled her braid captivated him.

Star was alive and he was with her. The sight of her standing there reminded him of the ache to his chest that he had felt earlier today when she had been walking away after their first talk. But now he understood what it had been.

He had fallen in love with her. And seeing her walking away from him while upset brought out the hurt his mind was hiding.

At the cabin, he had begun to have an attachment to Star that at the time he did not understand. Looking back he knew that because of his conditioning he had taken it as a detriment to the mission. Star was slowly compromising him…or at least that was what he had begun to think. The reality was that even without his mind knowing what was happening, he had begun to fall in love with her. That was not something that he had known before or after that mission. Even before the war, dames came and went without having any real impact on him.

But Star had.

Even with the monster that Hydra created out of his broken husk of a body, Star had been nice and kind to him. She had not been frightened since she had known a much worse monster during the four years before they met. Between the jokes and teasing that she had done with him, he now understood that she was trying to make him laugh and be happy.

Star was indeed as beautiful now as he remembered her being then, but her body had grown from a young girl into a mature woman, firm and full. Kozlov had kept her body frail and weak, and it had showed with her small frame. But he could see that she had indeed been taking care of herself since returning home. Her limbs did not seem as thin and weak looking as they had now that she was in control of her own meals. Running had kept the weight she put on to remain more muscular, toning her body nicely. Star looked beautifully healthier than when they had parted and he was so glad that she had been doing well.

"You're staring," her soft voice sounded, bringing him back to the present.

"And you are going to be getting a lot of that," he told her leaning against the bath cabinet to just needing to watch her for a few more moments. "I just spent the last three weeks believing that you were dead and that I had killed you. It is something that I never want to experience again. Not once did I even consider that you were alive."

Star finished unbraiding her hair and began to wet it under the falling water. He noticed that it was even longer than he remembered once it had laid straight. Back at the cabin, it had stopped around the small of her back, but right now it fell to rest on her butt cheeks.

"Why didn't you ever cut your hair? You told me the only reason it had been that long was because of Kozlov," he inquired.

He noticed that Star seemed to turn away a bit as her cheeks slightly turned rosy.

"I…um…left it long…so that…um…if you saw it, that you might recall liking it this way and help you to remember me," she admitted after stumbling over the words. He could see that admitting it embarrassed her a bit, which made him begin to wonder. "I do cut a bit of it off every so often, especially when it's long enough to sit on, but I've never taken it dramatically short. Actually, it's past time for me to trim a little bit off again."

Walking into the shower, he took her hand in his, using it to turn Star towards him.

"You don't have to keep it like that for me anymore," he told her, wrapping his arms around her yet again, their naked warm bodies fitting together nicely, just as he _did_ remember. He really liked just being able to hold and touch her. "I remember you now and nobody will ever take you away from me again."

Giving him a smile, she told him, "I'll consider it, but I've gotten very used to it over the years. My co-workers would probably faint if I cut it off. I know that they actually have a secret office pool going about whether or not I'll cut it drastically short before I retire."

Hearing that gave him a bit of hesitation. Her co-workers…at the F.B.I. Who _may_ have a team _actively_ hunting for him, for all he knew. And here he was ready to _stay_ with Star. He suddenly started to get very worried.

"What is it?" she asked him, touching her hand to his cheek.

"It may not be a good idea for me to stay with you," he told her honestly. "There could still be a lot of people hunting for me, and that would put you in danger."

"Oh, no!" she told him, placing both of her hands on his cheeks so he had to look right at her. "You used this excuse on me thirty years ago and I'm _not_ going to let you do it again. We'll work on finding out if there is anyone actively looking for you anymore. And only Steve, Sam, and eventually Natasha, will know about our connection so _nobody_ would come _here_ searching for _you_. But Steve and I already talked and we are going to start working on making you legitimately legal again…or as close to it as we can get. And if you even _consider_ running from this point forward, you'll have to deal with both of us now. Got that?"

Looking down into her eyes, he could see the seriousness of Star's words.

"If Hydra shows up here…"

Star interrupted him with, "Then I'll _shoot them_ just like you taught me for even _considering_ taking you from me again."

He knew that Steve would protect him, but hearing it from Star after so long made him treasure her even more.

Pulling her in tight to his body, he leaned over and began to kiss along her exposed delicate neck. Hearing Star moaning, he then began to press his hand on the small of her back so that he could feel the warmth of her body. As their hips ground together he knew that he could never leave her again.

Lifting Star easily up so that she was against the smooth wet shower wall, he stepped forward, separating her legs so that he had access between them. Star wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he held her off the ground kissing her with ferociousness. His hand traveled down, slipping around her thigh as he once again searched for the sweet spot that made her scream for him. How he missed that sound…

There was no mistaking the amorous look on her face as his fingers found what they were looking for. Twirling a single finger in a small circle, he watched as Star's bit her lower lip as a pleasurable moan emanated from her. But when she closed her eyes…

"Star," his voice firm to get her attention as she opened her eyes to look at him, "I want to see you watching me as I touch you...to know that you are mine. You are going to keep them open and looking right at me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Scary," she panted with a nod, bringing a twisted smile to his face. It felt just like when they had been in the woods so long ago. But he knew that he could also get a few answers from Star with her like this.

"Now, why were you refusing to tell me about us at dinner?"

The panicked look that appeared on her face was lovely. She knew that he was not going to let her refuse to answer.

"Scary…" Star managed to whimper out as she shook her head.

"Oh, no, Star. This is not like at the cabin. When I ask a question, I expect an answer…even if you don't want to give it," he informed her as he stopped his finger from touching her as punishment. "There will be no more secrets between us."

Star's expression turned a bit more serious as the considered his words for a few moments.

"In that case, you better know that I'll hold _you_ to the same standard," she firmly stated. "If you start sulking like you did back at the cabin, hiding whatever is troubling you, then I will expect an answer as to what's wrong. No more brooding from you. Agreed?"

Bucky thought about that for a bit. He knew that there was a lot that he would never talk with Steve about but Star was on a different level. She'd known from the moment they'd met that he was a trained killer. She had even watched him kill, and she had not been scared of him. And even considering what he'd done since then, it seemed that her feelings for him were still the same. But if he actually admitted some of his deeds to her, would they change?

"That's a lot to ask considering what I've done," he pointed out.

"Trust me. You don't have to hide _anything_ from me. You know what I went through and then add what I've seen with my job. Nothing you tell me will scare or shock me. I know what you were made to do and I will never judge you for any of it," her hand pulled his head forward so that she could give him a kiss.

When they finally broke the kiss, he grinned at her, "Then I want my answer…"

"Fine," Star sighed as she began to run her wet fingers over his arm's connection, a soft, soothing feeling to him. "After you didn't remember me this morning, and with you flinching away when I tried to touch you, I figured that you would probably never remember what we had together during those last days. Steve wanted me to just tell you about us, but I didn't want to say that you may have liked me and then possibly forced an emotion on to you that was never there. As I was leaving the park this morning, I told Steve that you were Bucky, not my Scary. I was going to let you move on with your life…without knowing the truth about me…well, us, really."

Bucky could only stare at her with that admission. For decades, Star had waited and hoped that he would come back to her. And when he had, she had seen no sign of the Winter Soldier that she had known. She had been willing to let 'Bucky' try to find a normal life…without her. She needed to know…

"If you had told me this morning that I had liked you, it _would_ have been a lie," he began, seeing a bit of hurt creeping over Star's face, but he then continued, "It would have been a lie because even though I didn't understand back then what I was feeling for you, I now know that I loved you. And Star, that _hasn't_ changed."

Star looked about ready to cry, but he could tell by her smile that his admission meant more than the world to her. Once again he crushed his lips down onto hers as she gripped his head so that he couldn't leave her. As her legs tightened around his waist, his fingers began to slide through the folds on her skin until he heard her breath hitch at finding the right spot.

Pulling his head back, he began to stare her down as he watched the erotic emotions sweep over her face as he not only swirled his fingers, but began to plunge them inside of her. He knew when her body had been built up enough, and his own had long since been there.

With minimal effort he was able to guide his hard shaft where he so desperately needed it to be…where they both needed it to be. Each pump pushed Star slightly up the wall, but the slickness of it allowed her to slide down, impaling herself on him as he then repeated the motions. Star's hands gripped around his neck, her nails firmly digging into the skin on his back, making a tingling sensation from him that he felt down his entire spine.

When they both peaked minutes later, neither one of them wanted to let go, finding a contentment with just holding each other as the warm water poured over their naked bodies. Their heads rested against each other and their breathing slowly began to harmonize.

"See what you tried to deny the both of us, Star?" he whispered into her ear.

She began to dazily nod her head, then said, "Alright, that was a bad decision on my part."

"Don't make any more of those, Doll."

"I won't, Scary."

Seeing how unsteady she was after letting her to the ground, he held onto her a bit longer before he rinsed off quickly to allow Star time to clean up. Grabbing a pair of clean boxers to sleep in, he glanced back to see Star still in the shower, but now she was gently twisting the water out of her hair.

Making his way downstairs, he checked all of the locks on the windows and French doors, making sure they were locked, which they were. He also took the time to pull all the shades closed. The alarm was already on. The house was secure.

As he was passing the coffee table in the den, a metal tin caught his eye. Seeing the colorful design of it, he had the feeling that there was only one thing it could be. Sitting on the couch, he pried the lid off and inhaled the sweet scent that he had enjoyed so much all those decades ago. Glancing up at the ceiling, he waited a second as if Star would call down to him somehow knowing that he had found them but nothing happened.

Picking a piece up and biting into it, as the flavor hit him he leaned back on the couch savoring the treat. Had Star kept the Turkish Delight around on the off chance that he would one day be here to enjoy them? With a smile, he had a feeling that she had. Grabbing another piece, he closed the tin back up and headed for the stairs while popping the other piece in his mouth.

He then made his way up to the guest room and Star's office, checking the windows in there also. He just needed to know that they were both safe. He had done the same thing at Steve's once he had gone to bed. Those first nights at Steve's, he was still a bit too paranoid to get any decent sleep thinking that Hydra had spies watching that he hadn't noticed. Would it be the same tonight?

Coming back into the bedroom, Star was standing at the vanity towel drying her hair while wearing a pair of underwear with a thin strap shirt. Sitting on the bed, he couldn't help but end up staring at her again for the next few minutes as she worked.

"Satisfied that the house is secure?" she asked after she had finished running a brush through the silky strands.

"Yes," he grinned, finding it funny that she knew exactly what he had been doing. "At least I don't have to do a perimeter walk or go outside to deal with a generator."

"Cute," she smiled at him while starting to braid her hair out of the way for the night. He was content just sitting there and watching. When she was done, Star walked right over to him, narrowing her eyes as she glared at him and shaking her head. Reaching up, she ran her finger over his lips, wiping away a bit of powdered sugar resting on his lip, "Only an assassin."

Hearing that familiar teasing phrase, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto the bed as she began to laugh at him. He pinned her down as he began to kiss her again, knowing that he would never get tired of doing that. Star used her tongue and licked away the remaining sugar from his lips.

After only a few moments, they gathered themselves and got the room ready. While he turned off the lights, Star plugged in her phone to charge. Then from her purse, she pulled out a small flip burner phone, plugging it into a waiting cord. It must have to do with work, he guessed. He noticed that also she had to pick up an alarm clock from where it lay on the floor. Bucky gave her a questioning look.

"It offended me by working properly this morning," she told him with a grin, setting it so they could meet Steve and Sam in the morning for their run. Hearing her say that, he wanted to know something.

"Star, that morning in the cabin, when you threw the pillow at the door. Why did you do that?" he decided to ask. "Did you know what I planned to do that day?"

Star took her time as she seemed to think of her answer, finishing with the clock before pulling the bed's cover back and sitting down. He moved to the other side, noticing that they were in the same spots as they had been at the cabin. Coincidence?

"Not really," she then answered. "I knew that I was running out of time. That was why I went ahead and wrote the note for my family. But with how distant you became after we woke up from napping together, and how broody you were all night, I was really irritated at you for being that way. Then when you didn't come to bed that night, even if it was to just lay next to me, I missed you."

That answer was not what he had been expecting.

"I thought that you were mad at me for what I was about to do," he admitted, leaning back onto the headboard.

"Technically, I was mad at you, but only for being do withdrawn. You were my only friend and it felt like you had abandoned me."

"You _wanted_ _me_ to be in the bed with you? Even knowing I would eventually kill you?" he asked.

"Yes," Star said slipping under the covers so he did the same. "During the past four years, whenever someone had touched me, it was only to cause me pain…to hurt me in some way. But you…when you touched me, it was always gentle. And that night, you took it away. I ended up crying myself to sleep, holding your pillow…the same one I tossed the next morning."

Listening to her admission, he had never once considered her answer as even a remote possibility. She was right and he knew it. Bucky could feel a tightness forming in his chest now at thinking that he had somehow hurt Star then. Star had started to think of him as a strange friend, but one nonetheless.

"I thought that by distancing myself from you, that I was making it easier for the both of us," he admitted. "I was already feeling an attachment to you that I didn't understand so I knew that I needed to stay away otherwise I wouldn't have…"

When he couldn't finish the phrase, Star did for him, "Been able to finish your mission. I know. I figured it out later. But at the time, I didn't get it. I was a crazy lovesick girl who had fallen for the bad boy who turned around and hurt her. What a cliché."

"Star, I'm sorry…" was a far as he got before she stopped him.

"Scary, you don't have to apologize for anything. Neither one of us knew how to handle what was happening back then. We were both equally lost."

Reaching over, he wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her towards him as he turned to meet her body with his. With minimal effort, he had Star's body curled up right against his in the center of the bed as they had done so few times before.

"Well, I'm here tonight to start making up for it," he told Star, giving her neck a kiss. He felt her gently moving her body to get comfortable, which included pressing even tighter against his chest. Sliding his left hand under the pillow, he found Star's hand already there and waiting as she wrapped their fingers together. "Just so you know, I don't usually sleep for too long. My dreams aren't made of the stuff they used to be."

Star pulled his hand to her lips and gave it a kiss.

"I used to have the same, sometimes I still do," she admitted to him. "It does get easier over time. Do whatever you need, just don't run away this time."

"I promise I won't," he told her, taking a deep breath and smelling the flowery scent of her hair.

It didn't take them both long to fall asleep in each other's arms.


	54. Chapter 54

**Song: _Hurricane_** **by Thrice  
**

* * *

Opening his eyes suddenly, his breath hitched as he tried to remember where he was this time. A firm bed was under him as he lay on his back. The room was dark, only a sliver of light peeking around closed curtains to his right. There was a gentle hum of air coming from a vent somewhere nearby. The steady clicking from a ceiling fan. Next to him was the soft, steady breathing of someone sleeping…

His mind tried to shake off the dream that had been filled with red. Blood on his hands, blood on his clothes, blood on his target. Running his fingers across his palm, he was no long holding the knife that had been there moments ago. His flesh was also dry. There was no more blood. It was all a memory now.

A memory of dead eyes full of hatred staring up at him.

They would never go away.

The target had been a female. One of the higher ups in Hydra had allowed his mistress access to sensitive information. She had stolen a file and was trying to blackmail him. Instead, he had activated the Winter Soldier to extract the location of the paperwork as well as deal with the mistress's betrayal.

Learn the location of the information, retrieve paperwork, terminate target. No witnesses.

 _No witnesses_.

That was what had been the worst part of that mission…

When the young, preschool aged son of the mistress had opened her bedroom door to find out why his mommy was crying.

He had used the life of the child as leverage against her.

She had quickly given up the location of the files.

Then he had completed the mission.

He had made it quick.

No witnesses.

Lifting his hand to his cheek, he wiped the tear that was there away. He could still picture the innocent's body lying on the floor with his arm outstretched for his mommy. His throat slit as a pool of blood gathered around his small frame. His mother's blood curdling screams. He then made sure that she joined her son. He saw the moment life left her body through her darkening eyes. She died cursing him, hating him as so many other had also.

Now the tears were falling much freer as his body began to shake while he silently cried.

The body next to him moved, a warm hand coming to rest on his torso, letting his body tell her what was happening. A moment later he felt protective hands wrapping around him, pulling his head over so that it came to rest on her chest. His own arm snaked around her waist, holding her tightly while hoping that she was able to force his demons go away and make him feel safe.

Gentle fingers began to stroke through his hair, trying to soothe him as he quietly cried lying on top of her warm body, his burning tears seeping into her shirt. He began to focus on the steady rhythm of her beating heart. No words were spoken.

Star continued to hold him until the ghosts of the woman and her child finally became manageable, the guilt draining all his energy away, allowing him to fall back asleep.

* * *

When the alarm started blaring, he now understood why Star had smacked it to the floor. Somehow she had found the most irritating sound in the entire world. Seconds later, with a thud the clock was once again resting on the floor.

"I hate that damn thing," she mumbled before rolling over towards him, wrapping her arm and leg over him, her head resting easily on his metal chest as he wrapped his arm around her back.

Bucky began to run his other hand over her arm holding him, thinking back to the nightmare he had woken up from much earlier. Usually after such a horrible one, he would stay awake for the rest of the night. His only companion being his journals until the dawn.

But this time Star had been with him. She knew that he was upset and with her simple gesture she had been able to help him. It had taken a while, but he had finally fallen back asleep with him encased in her caring arms. He had not done so years ago, not needing that bit of comfort then, but he overwhelmingly needed it last night. Luckily, missions where children were involved were not many…less than a handful that had come back to him. Hopefully it stayed that way.

"Feeling better?" she asked delicately.

"Yes," he told her.

She didn't prod him any further for details. Star knew that if he wanted to that he would explain what had upset him, but she already understood…she had been there. How had he gotten so lucky as to have Star back in his life?

Then his mind went back to what she had admitted to in Steve's bedroom...about how he had hurt her.

"Star, about what you said yesterday, about how I hurt you..."

"Scary, you don't..." she started but he tightened his grip on her to stop her from making an excuse for him.

"Yes, I do," he said kissing the top of her head. "I never even considered that leaving you would hurt you like that. I didn't understand back then and I'm sorry that you've had to feel that way about me for so long. And I can't explain how grateful I am about the fact that you are not mad at me...unless you haven't mentioned that yet."

He felt her body shake against his as she laughed, then saying, "No, Scary, I'm not mad at you. After last night, even if I had been, you definitely made it up to me. Numerous times."

He had to laugh himself at hearing that wonderful and sexy admission. Taking his other arm, he wrapped them both protectively around her, just enjoying being together.

A few minutes of quiet cuddling went by before the alarm starting blaring again. It seemed that Star had only hit snooze. Rolling over out of his grasp, Star slid the top of her body off the bed until she could grab the item, smacking it a bit firmly onto the dresser.

"Alright. Let's go meet up with those crazy early morning friends of yours," she said turning the lamp on.

"They're your friends too," he pointed out rolling off his side of the bed.

"They're only my friends after I've had my coffee and fully woken up," Star joked as she also stood up and headed for the closet.

It didn't take long for the two of them to dress in their workout clothes. He noticed that Star put both phones into her pockets to take with her. They were out of the door within ten minutes with bottles of water for each of them.

Star asked him about where he had been for the past four months as they walked together. He told her about how he'd gone to a Hydra location after the fight, using the emergency cash and supplies to get out of D.C. They both found it amusing that he had passed through Savannah, Georgia only a few weeks before recalling Star due to the song. Steve had mentioned that 'Lucy' was there to see her family, but at the time he'd not realized that it was Star.

"Back at the cabin, why did you tell me your name was Star?" he then asked.

"For the past four years, that's all that anyone called me. I hadn't heard my name in so long it felt foreign," she admitted. "So when you asked, that's what I thought of first."

"Does anyone else call you Star?" they could now see the park in the far distance down the street.

"Only you and Steve," she said. "When we met that first morning, I introduced myself to him as Lucy, but I told him he could call me Star, that way if you mentioned me that he would recognize the name. Even in front of Sam and Natasha he would only use Lucy."

"Before yesterday, I was teasing him about 'Lucy' being his girlfriend since I didn't know the connection," he said.

"Captain America as my boyfriend?" she mused out loud, which slightly bristled him.

There was more than a bit of jealousy at actually hearing Star say that. He then remembered how Star and Steve had been talking before dinner. He'd felt a similar jealousy then too. Now he knew why.

"Well, I have a pretty high standard. I don't think that Steve would make it," she then joked while taking his hand into hers. He hadn't walked down a street holding a dame's hand since the forties. Recalling them walking through the forest together like this, he had been uncomfortable with the strange intimate gesture but he had not stopped it. If only he had understood then…

"Captain America doesn't meet your standard? But yet I do?" he joked back at her.

"I like them tall, strong, dark, and broody. And more than a bit dangerous," she winked at him, getting a smile from him. "Out of curiosity, I know that there was a big fight between you and Steve on the Helicarrier. Who won?"

Thinking back to the fight, he felt his stomach drop at thinking about how he had been trying to kill Steve, his best friend.

"I'm not sure how to call it," he told her, getting a questioning look. "By the end I had Steve down, but that was only because he had refused to fight me. Then the floor dropped out from beneath of us. I jumped into the river to get him, dragging him to the shore where he was barely conscious."

Star seemed to consider this for about half a block before answering, "Then you won. _And_ you need to yell at Steve for _not defending himself_. I don't think that you would approve if _I_ did something like that so why should _he_ get off easy."

"You know, that is a _fine_ point," he told her with a grin as they spotted Sam and Steve stretching at their tree in the distance.

* * *

"Are you having a meeting today by chance?" Star asked Sam as they jogged through the park area. Scary and Steve had taken off together at their usual fast pace, leaving the two of them bitterly behind.

"Yeah, there's one before lunch today," he told her.

Sam had given the two of them a very curious look when they had arrived together, especially holding hands. They had taken a few minutes to explain to Sam about Scary's memories about her returning yesterday, and how he was going to be staying with her. Sam then gave Scary a sly grin while nodding his head knowingly.

"I'll be heading to work but I wanted to see if you would have time to maybe talk with Scary again. He had a bad dream last night. I didn't ask about it, and I don't know if he would actually talk with me even though I told him he could, but I think that he needs to talk with someone today."

"Yeah, I can see if he and Steve want to come to the meeting and then have lunch," Sam told her as they jogged down a shady path. "I can already see a bit of a change in him since even yesterday. Like he's a bit happier. I wonder why _that_ is?"

Star could hear the innuendo in Sam's voice. But it was good to hear that Scary already seemed better.

"Not sure," she commented wondering what was about to happen. "Maybe it has to do with all the sex we had."

Sam visibly stumbled at hearing that, eliciting a loud laugh from her.

"Some of it on Steve's bed!" she called back since she had not stopped jogging.

"I did _not_ need to know that!" Sam yelled at her before catching up.

A couple of minutes later, they both heard the familiar sounds of quick footsteps behind them. Steve passed Sam with "on your left" but as Scary said "on your right" he quickly halted next to her, taking her into his arms and then giving her a big kiss as he dipped her slightly.

When the two of them were once again righted up, Sam was glaring at them, as was Steve who had stopped a bit ahead of them to see what was going on.

"Really?" Sam asked with a grin.

"If you're jealous, maybe Steve can start kissing you with each pass," she offered up, getting a loud laugh from Scary as he headed for Steve.

"No thanks!" Sam said holding up his arms defensively towards Steve.

"Are you saying that I'm a bad kisser?" Steve then yelled back to him.

"Is there something that we need to know?" Bucky teasingly asked.

"Will you two just get going!" Sam yelled throwing his arms towards the pair as they both laughed at him before taking off. Turning to her, he asked, "Do you see what you've started?"

For the next five passes, Scary would always make sure to stop and give her a kiss, not that she minded at all.

* * *

Knowing that Star had to get ready for work, he let her have the bathroom to herself as she showered, knowing that if he didn't that she would either be really late or never make it in to work. As she washed, he slyly made his way over to her nightstand where the burner phone was. His curiosity about it had grown, still guessing that it had to do with work but needing to confirm his suspicion.

Flipping it open, there was only a handful of numbers programed in it. Someone named Alan, the name Shamrock, which he guessed was a location, another listed as payphone, and finally only an actual number with a Washington area code. It did look just like something that she would probably use for a private contact. Hearing the shower turn off, he put the phone back down and walked into the bathroom as Star stepped out onto the bathmat and wrapped a large towel around her body.

"I'm going to give you my house key," she told him while wrapping another towel around her hair. Star looked so much like she had back at the cabin with it on her head. "I mentioned to Steve that you needed a duplicate made and he said there is a hardware store close to his apartment. He's planned that after lunch the two of you could go there."

"But you won't be able to get back in if you get home early," he pointed out.

"You're probably going to be hanging out with Steve and Sam all day. I'll call and find out where you are and come get you. It'll be like picking up a kid from a play-date."

Hearing that tease stopped him as he had been reaching for the shower's knob. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Star's grinning face in the mirror. Stepping back over to her, he stopped right behind her, placing his hands on her bare shoulders before dragging the tips of his fingers down her back until he reached the edge of the towel. With little effort, he was able to loosen it so that it fell to the floor, pooling around her feet.

Bending over slightly, he placed his face as close to her neck as he could without actually touching her skin. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he inhaled the warm sweet scent coming off her flushed body. The comfortable essence of his Star began to penetrate him...making him want to do the same to her.

Continuing his fingers' path downward, he watched as they gently crossed over the deep, rough scars that lined her entire backside. They were not ugly to him as the other man years ago had found them. Each one proved to him how strong she had been to endure receiving them and to still be as wonderful as she was. He recalled how he had traced them with his tongue that last night at the cabin, making Star laugh at him saying he was being kinky. Back then he had not understood the joke, instead just wanting to touch every single place on her body for as long as the night held out.

Star arched her chest out at the possible tickling feeling as his hands finally came to rest on her hips.

Tilting his head over, Bucky kept eye contact with her as he places his lips right up against her right ear, whispering, "It seems that you still like to tease me."

"Somehow I have a feeling that you don't mind," she told him as he began to slide his right hand around her bare hip.

He loved the way Star's red lips parted as his fingers swirled through of the folds between her legs, the sound of the sharp inhale of breath that she took. He began to glide his left hand back up her body until he was able to reach around to slither his silver hand around her delicate neck, pulling her naked body back against his own bareness. As his fingers continued to explore, Star's hips began to grind against him, making him firmer with little effort. But this was for the teasing...

"You know," he told her with a smirk as he watched her increasing arousal in the mirror, "you're right."

With that, he plunged his finger inside of her as deep as he could, causing Star to give a low whimper of pleasure.

"Place your hands on the counter," he demanded to which she easily obeyed.

Glaring into the mirror, they never lost sight of each other as he continued to thrust his finger, eventually adding a second one, causing Star to bite down on her lower lip. His left hand traveled up, lifting her chin gradually up but Star kept eye contact as he brought her body higher towards orgasm. Increasing the pressure around her neck the slightest bit, he growled into her ear, "Is this what you have missed?"

"Yes, Scary," she managed to answer with a wavering voice. He could tell that she was not the least bit frightened of him as he held her, lifting her head with his metal fingertips. He knew that no matter what, that Star would always be his.

"If you keep teasing me like this in the mornings, you are going to be late for work…every…single…day," he stabbed his fingers firmly with each of the final his actions and words, he felt Star's center tighten down onto him as she cried out, finally closing her eyes as she rode the pleasurable wave he had caused.

Feeling Star's legs begin to falter for a moment, he moved to wrap his arms around her torso, wanting to hold her a bit tighter against him for just a bit longer. When she was once again steady, he placed a gentle kiss onto her bare shoulder as she parted her eyelids to see him in the mirror.

"After that, I may have to tease you in the mornings, afternoons, and evenings," she slyly grinned at him.

Giving her shoulder another kiss, he told her, "I wouldn't mind that at all," before stepping away to head to the shower, but only after returning the grin.

He showered quickly, wanting to make sure that he did not delay Star from work any longer. She'd already mentioned dropping him off at Steve's place, and now he realized that what she teased earlier might be right. For the immediate future, he probably would be just hanging around with Steve and Sam during the day while she worked. But there was not a lot for him to do right now anyways.

He didn't have to spend his days running, moving from town to town while hiding from Hydra. So what was there for him to do? He couldn't sit around for the rest of his life and do nothing. But could he even find a job? Steve had told him that he could have a normal life, but what would be considered normal to someone trained as a sniper, then an assassin? Obviously, not a desk job of any kind.

Steve was still working on files concerning the fall of Hydra with Natasha and Sam as part of the new S.H.I.E.L.D., along with the other Avengers that he had yet to meet. He knew more about the inner workings of the organization than anyone probably figured that he did. His handlers had not been too worried about talking when he was around since they had no reason to see him as any sort of threat to them. Could he somehow use this knowledge to help them continue to take whatever was still left of Hydra out? He decided that he would talk with Steve and Sam later about what he could contribute.

As he was drying off, he heard the sound of the burner phone ringing. A second later, Star was running from out of the closet to grab it from the nightstand. Flipping it open, he listened as she sat stood ridged, listening to the male voice on the other end.

"Alright then. I'll tell the team to get everything into place. Watch out for yourself today Alan," she told the name he'd seen in the contacts. "It will take a few hours to get the warrants."

For the next few minutes, he silently listened in as Star contacted someone named Sherry on her personal cellphone and began to give details on a location at the Baltimore docks for a ship arriving later today. He gathered that they were hauling in a container of girls from the Ukraine, paying off someone in customs to allow the box through by saying the contents had been checked and approved.

He was dressed and ready to go by the time that Star put her phone down. The expression on her face was purely professional, and she looked very determined.

"I may be a bit late tonight," she told him, pulling off the suit pants and exchanging them for a pair of dark jeans. She then tossed onto the bed a tight, black t-shirt with a pair of black socks, her gun belt which had been on the upper shelf, and a pair of lace up sneakers.

"I heard," he told her leaning on the door frame of the bathroom as he watched her change into an outfit better suited for the raid that it sounded like she was now going to be spending the day getting ready for. Star looked up at him as she was dressing and he knew that she could tell.

"Are you worried about me?" she asked him, standing up.

"Of course," he told her with more emotion in his voice than he had intended. He had been trained to always keep his emotions in check, but then he didn't have something to loose.

"I'll be fine. This is a raid just like I've gone on more times than I can count. You should be _more worried_ about the girls that have been locked in a container for the past thirty days or so," she told him finishing with her shoes.

"Thirty days?" he asked not sure he understood.

"Yeah. They use cargo ships to move large quantity of girls at a time. It takes time to travel across the Atlantic. It's not just going from point a to point b. They have to go wherever the ship goes," she informed him. He had never thought about something like that.

"Is that what happened to you?" he asked.

"No," she told him, making him a bit relieved. "I was purchased after Kozlov saw my picture along with a couple of other girls. _Lucky me_. He was a good, repeat customer so I was flown down to Miami. They put me onto a smuggling boat to get me into Cuba. From there, Kozlov was able to send his men to collect me, flying back to Russia. We walked right through customs in Moscow thanks to his connections. Compared to what other girls have gone through, I had that part easy."

Bucky listened and found himself still wanting to hurt Kozlov even after all this time. But if it hadn't been for that bastard, he never would have met Star. He followed her into her office where Star opened back up the hidden wall safe, taking out her gun, holstering it.

"I don't like the idea of you putting yourself into danger," he admitted to her.

"You'll get used to it," she smiled at him. "Besides, it's not like I work alone, unlike you. There will be a full tactical team with me, as well as my own team. The raid should go just like the others, without a single shot being fired. My job is a lot more paperwork than action."

Hearing that did make him feel a bit better, but he knew that he was going to be spending the day worrying.

Leaving the house a short while later, Star drove him the short distance to Steve's apartment. After getting a final kiss goodbye, he stood on the sidewalk watching as Star drove away to do her job. His stomach started to churn.


	55. Worrying For Star

**Song: _My Name Is Human_ by Highly Suspect**

* * *

"Alright…I now see what Star meant about you becoming a quiet lump," Steve told his friend who had been quietly stewing in his favorite chair for most of an hour since arriving. "What wrong?"

Bucky gave a heavy sigh before answering, "It's Star."

Steve had not been expecting that as an answer after seeing the two of them together this morning.

"Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Bucky said, "her job."

Now Steve _really_ didn't understand.

"Star got a call that she's been waiting for. At some point today, she'll be going on a raid at the port up in Baltimore."

 _Now_ the brooding made sense.

"And you are worried for her," he said to which Bucky only nodded. "You do realize that she's been doing stuff like this for longer than we were fighting Hydra back during the war. Decades longer, actually."

Bucky grimaced then stood up and firmly marched over towards the windows, looking out.

"But this is Star I'm talking about. I just found her yesterday after thinking that I'd killed the only person who was nice to me for the past seventy years. And then finally remembering her and what she means to me... Steve, if something happens to her…"

There was no mistaking the sound of Bucky's arm calibrating as he formed it into a fist. Steve could only sigh. Star's job was not on the same level as what they were used to...taking down entire bases with a small group, or fighting aliens from space. Compared to them, he would consider her job normal. He was a bit worried about hearing that she would be on a raid, but it was not the kind that they went on.

"I can understand where you are coming from. After becoming friends with them, I was worried for Natasha and Clint every time I knew that they were going on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission that did not require me, and they were only my friends. Knowing how you feel about Star, I'm sure it's ten times worse."

Bucky then pulled the blinds down, trying to get the apartment dark like he had done at first. Steve was not about to allow him to wallow around all day.

"Nope, that is not happening," he said walking over and lifting the shades. "We are going to go meet Sam and sit in on that meeting. Afterwards, the three of us are going to discuss what is bothering you about Star's job. Then we are going to go get lunch, have that house key made, and finally...we are going grocery shopping so that you can have dinner ready for when Star gets home tonight."

"Dinner? You know my skills in the kitchen barely get breakfast made, and now you expect me to cook a dinner?" he asked him with a smirk.

"Trust me," was all that Steve told him, hoping that him and Sam were able to distract Bucky from worrying for the next few hours, and especially stop him from running off to follow Star.

* * *

Star stepped out of the briefing, heading for her office. They had three hours until they moved in on the custom's building where the container would be located after being offloaded from the cargo ship. At least the judge had not give them a hard time about the warrants this time. She knew that there were a few on the O'Connell's payroll so he must be one that they hadn't managed to bribe.

Picking her phone up, it indicated a waiting message. Clicking on it, she found a text from Steve's phone. Opening it, Star looked at the picture of a flower still attached to a bush in a park. The message attached told her to make sure her gun was clean, that she wore a vest, and to keep her head down. It was signed Scary.

She gave a little laugh, feeling a bit better. At least he didn't try and talk her out of going, which is what she had first expected him to do this morning at the house. That would not have been a fun conversation to have so soon after reuniting.

Texting back, she informed him that her gun was clean, her vest was ready to go, and she'd keep her head down. At the end, she sent a kiss emoji.

Wondering why he was using Steve's phone, she realized that since he only had an old style flip burner phone, texting was a tedious task on it. Maybe they would have to look into getting him something a bit more up to date and permanent.

* * *

Sam dropped him and Steve off back at the house with the bags of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It was strange to think of him planning on doing something as mundane as cooking a meal after spending decades training and killing. Opening up the door with his new key, he turned the alarm off as they headed into the kitchen to unpack the items they had picked up.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," he said pulling out the ingredients for the sandwiches Steve was going to help him make.

"If you can wipe out an entire Hydra base like you did back at the Vault, then you can easily put together some sandwiches," Steve darkly joked as they started to put away some cold items.

For the most part, he had been living off of food that he could purchase from either fast food places or gas stations for the past four months. There was no reason to even set foot inside of a modern grocery store. Even when he had been following Steve for those few days, he always stayed outside, not wanting to get cornered inside a small location with too many possible civilian casualties. At Steve's, he knew enough to make them bacon and eggs for breakfast thanks to recalling watching Star doing it a few mornings.

But after following Sam around for a bit, they reached the freezer section. There was an entire long isle dedicated to nothing but ice cream and frozen sweet treats. He had stood there for almost ten minutes before he had chosen two different flavors of pint sized ice cream. One was a mixture of chocolate, brownies, and nuts while the other had chunks of red velvet cake and icing mixed in. He remembered his sister Becca having such a cake for her birthday one year, long before the war even started. It was a good memory so he hoped that the treat was as good as he recalled.

Opening up the freezer, they both saw how it was full of individual frozen meals for one person. The top shelf was breakfast items such as pastries, while the next two were filled with meals for either lunch or dinner. The bottom shelf was a mixture of ice cream and popsicles. He then opened up the fridge part, finding it mostly bare with fresh fruit and vegetables for a salad, yogurt, beer, sliced bread, cheese, and plenty of condiments.

"It looks like Star eats alone a lot," Steve commented as he made room for the new ice creams.

"She _used_ to," he said with a grin, knowing that he intended to make sure she never ate alone again.

"Are you feeling better about her job now that you've had time to process what you and Sam talked about?" he then asked him.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it or won't worry. Sam actually praise me for keeping it together enough to not follow her today," he told Steve earning a laugh from him. "Have you ever been here before?"

"Twice," Steve answered. "Star's invited me over for dinner on two occasions. Why?"

"Did she ever show you her office?" he asked.

"No. We just sat on the couch and talked after eating."

"Come on," Bucky gestured towards the stairs as he walked.

Making their way upstairs, they walked inside of the small office as he gestured to the items that he wanted Steve to know about. Taking a few moments, he let his friend examine the items.

"So, Star's had a few dogs over the years and kept these as memorials?"

"No," he said taking a breath. "Back in Russia at Kozlov's cabin, there was a clearing off in the woods. There were three small graves with these collars to mark them."

Steve looked from him back at the collars as if he was trying to figure it out, so he decided to make it easy for him.

"Star was wearing an identical one when I found her."

The shock on Steve's face was priceless.

"Are you saying…" was all he managed to get out before Bucky saw the blood drain from his friends face.

"Yeah. After killing his previous pets, he hung their collars from limbs sticking out of the ground to mark their graves. From what I could tell, he used a tree stump to help him chop up the bodies with an ax so that they fit into the small grave holes easier."

He was quiet for a short time to let Steve process this.

" _That's_ what he was planning on doing with Star?"

Bucky just nodded his head.

"If I hadn't been sent out or if Hydra had waited for a few extra days before sending me, she would have just been another collar on a grave."

"How did she end up with them?" Steve asked.

"The lady that she met at the embassy after I left her, Barbara, sent them to her after Star made a request a few years later. The Russian authorities had no need for them and passed them along. They never did identify any of the other girls, Star told me," Bucky said as he began to walk back out of the office and down the stairs.

"What happened to Star's collar?" Steve asked taking a seat at the island while Bucky grabbed two beers for them.

"I found some bolt cutters and was able to cut the lock off. I gave it to her and she threw it into the fireplace."

"That's a hell of a how-did-you-meet story the two of you have," Steve told him with a smile.

"One of a kind," he said saluting him with the bottle and getting one in return.

* * *

Star was brooding over at the far end of the custom's building. The raid had gone just as they had planned, with not a shot being fired. The crooked custom's official had been taken into custody, but the representative for the O'Connell family had never arrived to take possession of the container. So they still had no solid connection to them.

But what irritated her was that when they finally got the doors to the container open, inside they found only three very sickly, scared girls.

Normally, on a shipment like they had been expecting, there would have been at least fifteen or so. There being only three girls made no sense. It was more economical to pack as many girls into a shipment as they could. Why would they only have shipped three?

"We can't find anything else," Robert solemnly told her as he came over to where she was leaning against the wall, glaring at all the other containers. She'd had one of her people go around to every container and listen for movement, but from what Robert was saying, there were no more girls. Or at least they couldn't find them. Thanks to the wording of the warrant, they could not touch or search any other container without probable cause. If they were here, her team had no hope in finding them.

"Let's get this wrapped up then," she told him pushing herself off the wall and heading over to where the three girls were being checked out. They had called in an ambulance, as well as a Ukrainian translator, so that the girls would know what was going on.

Reaching her team, Sherry briefed her on what the translator was able to find out, which was what she had guessed. They had been promised jobs in America, shoved in the box, and then thrown on the ship with just enough food and water to last them for the journey. One of the sailors on the ship would check on them every few days, emptying out the bucket for waste and taking them one at a time for him to use as he saw fit. Thanks to the ship having an international flag, there would be no way to prosecute the man aboard.

"Let's get them to the hospital then," she told her. "Linda has already agreed to watch them for tonight until they can be processed to return home."

"At least they survived the trip," Sherry said with a smile, trying to make her feel better. She had started working on the team for well over ten years by now and somehow always managed to look on the bright side. She didn't know how she could always seem so happy, but in their line of work eternal optimism was sorely needed. It was something that she herself sorely lacked.

"True," she said as her phone then buzzed to indicate a message.

Pulling it out, she saw another text from Scary using Steve's phone, telling her that he was at home and dinner would be waiting for her. Star felt a warmness in her chest at thinking of him doing such a simple gesture for her.

"Oh, my goodness, Lucy! Is that a smile?" Sherry had a mostly fake look of shock on her face while looking at her, which only caused her own smile to increase even more. "It is! I _knew_ that you looked happy this morning for some reason! So, spill it…who is he? Where did you meet him? And why haven't I head about him before now?"

"What makes you think that there is a 'he'?" she asked putting away her phone.

"Because the last time I saw even a glimmer of a smile from you was because of the last guy I knew about, the SWAT guy, before you dumped him like rotten cabbage" she pointed out. "Larry…Linus…Lewis…"

"What a disgusting way to look at it. He went by Lynch, and I know you remember that by how much you joked about how _horrible_ his team name was. Besides, that was eight years ago," Star told her, hating to think about how _that_ relationship eventually ended.

"Way too long to go between boyfriends," Sherry grinned at her. "So, at least tell me his name. _First name only_ so you know I'm not looking him up in the database doing a background check, which you better have already done yourself."

That was a unique request considering what she knew about Scary. Star gave a heavy sigh. The only way to describe this side of Sherry was as a best friend. She was the one who could manage to drag her out of the house for a few hours at a bar or going to the latest movie. But at work, she always performed her job remarkably well with more pep than any other team member. For the most part, if anyone she worked with could be trusted, Sherry would have been it. But she still needed to be careful for Scary's sake.

"James."

"Ooo. That sounds very manly," she joked as Robert and Linda helped the girls into the ambulance.

"Oh, yeah, he is," she found herself dreamily saying without thinking first. Glancing over, Sherry's mouth was hanging open.

Star was about to tell her to forget hearing that, but while raising her hands Sherry told her, "I'm just glad that you seem to have _finally_ found someone that makes you happy."

"Yeah," Star honestly admitted. "I've been waiting a long time to find him."

* * *

"It's not much," he told his Star as he set the plates onto the table. It had not taken him long to put together roast beef sandwiches with hot au jus in dipping bowls, with tater tots as a side dish. Turns out, Steve knew of something called a 'seasoning packet' that all it took was boiling water to make the au jus. Great for a real attempt at cooking in seventy years.

"It's perfect," she told him wrapping her arms around him for a hug as well as a kiss.

"Steve and Sam took me shopping and then Steve helped walk me through getting everything ready," he told her.

"Steve didn't want to stay for dinner?" she asked sitting down at the table and smiling at the flowers arranged on them.

"No. I offered but he said that he'd see us in the morning and headed home," he told her grabbing the container of pre-made sweet tea from the fridge. "I can't believe all the items out there to buy that are already made."

"People are always in a lot more of a hurry nowadays compared to back growing up, I'd guess," she said dipping a tater tot in ketchup.

"That's an understatement. Why the hell would they have already peeled boiled eggs? Are people really so helpless?" he asked.

"I totally agree with you so you'll have to ask anyone else for that answer," she grinned at him as he sat down next to her.

"How did the raid go?" he asked trying to not sound as nervous as he felt.

"Overall, fine," she said but he heard something in her voice.

"What?"

Star sighed then answered, "Normally we would find at least a dozen girls on an import shipment. But today, there were only three. There have been times when one would die and the worker on the ship would throw a body overboard. But they said that it had only been the three of them the entire time."

"And that bothers you?"

"Yeah," she said picking up her sandwich and dipping it. After finishing off her bite, she told him, "It's just not normal, that's all. But at least we got them out of there."

"So what happens to them now?" he started to eat his own sandwich. He would have to call Steve later and thank him for helping again. This simple dinner he'd helped with turned out to be very good.

"They'll be processed and then put back onto a plane home," she told him.

"They can't stay here?"

"No. They don't fall into the categories of needing political asylum or refugee status. Besides, they are young and have family waiting for them," she explained.

Hearing that, Bucky thought of something to ask her, "What happened with your family when you got back?"

For some reason, he could see a bit of sadness cross her face before she answered.

"My parents drove up to Atlanta to meet me and Barbara at the airport. My brother and sister, both of whom are older, were already married so they weren't living at home anymore. I went back to live with my parents for almost a year before I felt ready to attend college. But there is one thing I haven't mentioned to you yet," she told him with a smile.

"What's that?" he asked curious.

"Did you know that some colleges require at least a three-year course in a foreign language to graduate?" she asked.

"Nope."

"{Well, the one that I attended did,}" Star then responded in Russian, making him pause with the sandwich almost in his mouth.

"{You finally learned to say more than ' _I don't speak Russian_ '?}" he teased her for once.

"Very funny, Scary," she smirked at him. "Yes. I had to take something, so I chose it since I already had a very basic understanding of everyday words thanks to Kovlov's commands. Besides, at the time, I still figured that Russian was your native language. It wasn't until the following year that I took the history course."

"History course?" he didn't understand.

"It was the reason I knew to go to Steve about you. I already told him about it the first day we met. I saw your picture in my college history class's book, alongside him and the Howling Commandos. Even though your hair was different, there was no mistaking your face. It wasn't until then that I figured out who you really were," she explained. He'd been so wrapped up in just seeing and remembering Star that he had not even thought about _how_ she knew to go to Steve about him.

"I'm in history books? Kids are learning about me?" he really didn't understand now.

"Yes. All of you played a big part in the war."

After they ate, Star washed the dishes while he dried them, similar to what they had done at the cabin. Doing such a familiar thing helped to ease him a bit more inside. He had not gotten around to talking with Steve and Sam about working with them. After the meeting, Sam and he had held back in the room and talked for a while about the nightmare that had come to him last night. Sam admitted that Star had asked him to see if he wanted to discuss it so he braced himself and explained the horrible deed to him. By the time the three of them headed to lunch he did feel much better. The best part was that he didn't feel that Sam judged him for what had happened. And the Punk wouldn't think that it was partially his fault for not catching him before he fell.

Sitting on the couch as they finished off their bowls of ice cream, Star showed him how to turn on the television and surround sound speakers. He wasn't that interested in much beyond how it felt having Star sitting next to him, leaning against him as she explained the strange multiple remotes. What did catch his interest was when she mentioned that she could send music from her laptop over the speakers using something called Bluetooth.

"How easy is it to get a song now?" he asked to which she only smiled. Had she figured it out already?

"Pretty easy, for the most part. There's something called iTunes, and they have an extremely large selection of music."

"Would they by chance have our song?"

With that, Star pressed a button on a remote before headed upstairs to her office. About a minute later, he heard the familiar notes begin to fill the room before Star came back downstairs and turned off most of the lights.

"I put it on repeat. I figured that's what you would want," she told him offering him her hand to stand.

For the next half hour, they danced together in each other's arms before he finally couldn't control his yearning anymore. By the time they made it upstairs to bed, they were both exhausted from their escapades on not only the couch, but the kitchen counter.


	56. Hanging Out On A Friday

**Song:** **_Amnesia_ ** **by Red Sun Rising**

* * *

For the past few days living with Star had been the best he could remember. While she was at work, he'd spend most of the days with Steve and Sam, going to meetings and then lunch before the three of them would head to museum so he and Steve could catch up on what they had missed. In a way it reminded him of studying history in school. Growing up, he hadn't cared too much about the past, but now considering what had happened around him, he wanted to know what had led to the world that he was now a part of.

Unfortunately, there were a few incidences that caught his attention...the ones where a vote or an order could have gone a different way if the person responsible for them had not died. Hydra had used him to change the world and now he was learning what that actually entailed. At least the world, but mostly Star, was still here considering what could have happened.

Now, as he and Star reached the house after their morning jog, she asked, "How about we see if Steve wants to come hangout tonight for pizza and a couple of movies? It is Friday after all."

"That sounds so normal," he told her, gently squeezing her hand.

"Exactly," she grinned pulling the keys from her pocket.

"You go get ready for work and I'll call him. I don't think that he's going to turn down food."

Pulling her cell phone from her pocket she handed it to him, grabbing a quick kiss before turning to the stairs. Star was a couple of steps up before she stopped and look back at him, asking, "When was the last time that you ate pizza?"

"Sometime during early 1945, I think. The Commandos were still in Italy, taking out smaller Hydra bases," he told her turning the alarm back on. "We were holed up in a small town when a bad storm hit and we sat at a restaurant eating pizza with red wine all night."

Bucky saw her narrow her eyes and then smile.

"So, saying it has been a while would be an _understatement_ ," she said with a playful tone. "Ask Steve if he has a favorite style and then we'll get two or three others for you to try."

"You think we need that much?" he asked.

"Of course, I've seen the _both_ of you eat. I'll grab something for dessert on the way home," she yelled heading up the stairs.

Bucky headed over to the sink and grabbed a large glass of water before making the call. He now had a few more numbers inside of his own burner phone to get in touch with Natasha and Sam. Star had also put in her desk number at work in case he _really_ needed something. Star had mentioned about getting him a better phone than his burner in a few days. When he asked her what the point would be since he only had five numbers, she pointed out how easy it was to send pictures and text. With that logic, he had to agree.

" _Hey, Star_ ," Steve answered with the water still running from his shower in the background. Bucky knew that he would never miss a call from either of them if he could help it.

"You should be _ashamed_ talking with a female while _naked_ ," he teased his best friend.

" _I'm **not** naked yet, Jerk_," Steve told him then paused for a moment. " _ **Now** I'm naked, so what do you want_?"

Bucky had to give a chuckle at their conversation. He would have to tell Star about this.

"We are inviting you over for pizza and a movie tonight," he told him, still thinking it sounded so strangely normal.

" _Sounds fun. What time_?" he asked.

"I have no idea. Just show up early and we can hang out here until Star gets home."

" _Any errands you've thought of that we can do_?" Steve asked.

Bucky considered that question for a moment. Both he and Sam usually asked him the same, letting him dictate their daily outings. There was only one thing that came to mind this time.

"Yeah, but I'll tell you when arrive," he informed him. "Star wants to know if you have a preference when it comes to pizza."

" _A supreme or equivalent_ ," Steve informed him.

"She'll understand that?" he then had to ask since he didn't.

" _Yes, she should. Want me to be there so we can go out for lunch_?"

"Sure. See you in a few hours," Bucky said knowing that he was smiling.

Once again, it just seemed so normal.

How long would it last? Where was the other shoe?

Staring at the thing Star claimed was a modern version of a percolator, he finally felt confident enough to do this. After watching her for a few days, yesterday she had walked him through how to make a single cup of coffee using the small plastic pre-filled inserts. Taking down two mugs, he pulled out the different flavored cups, one for him and one for Star.

Making his first, he sipped the plain black dark roast coffee, more than a bit glad that some things were easier to make nowadays. He remembered how horrible tasting his attempt at the cabin had been. Grabbing up Star's now filled mug, he stirred in the sugar and milk that she liked before heading upstairs with it.

Placing it on the bathroom counter, he sipped from his own mug while watching Star finish showering. She had her hair wrapped up in a cloth turban to keep it from getting wet since she didn't wash it every day. Thinking about the past few days staying with Star, he had a hard time believing how different it was compared to the last four months.

No more walking all night down dark roads since they were easier to hide on, gone were meals purchased at a gas station or fast food restaurant, a hot bath and begin able to shave every day or so, and instead of dark smelly hotel rooms, he had a nice warm clean bed with an even nicer warm body next to his.

His stubborn best friend had managed to keep himself alive. Steve had then pulled him out of the hell that nobody else in the world probably would have been able to do. He had found a new friend that thankfully didn't hold grudges against people that tried to kill him, or at least he didn't hold it against _him_. Sam was great at helping him work through all the missions that kept arising to haunt him. Even Natasha had forgiven him for shooting her, pointing out that he owed her one with a smile.

Sometimes he wondered how this all came about. A few times the thought of if he even deserved it crept up, bringing a halt to the happiness he was trying to let build. There was a lot that he had done over the past seventy years. Eventually he would be found out and he was going to have to answer for it. But even if he did, he knew that he had these few days to help carry him through the darkness that was sure to come.

"What did Steve say?" Star asked stepping out and drying off.

"He'll be here. Did you really expect him to turn down food?" he joked.

"Nope," he loved the little grin that she did. "What type did he want?"

"Something called a supreme. He said you'd understand," he sipped his coffee while watching her.

"Yep. It has lots of different meats and vegetables," she explained to him. "I have a feeling you'll like that one too."

She picked up the mug and sipped her coffee as he continued to glare at her. She seemed to have gotten used to it over the past few days.

There had been many times when he would just have to watch her, to make sure that she was real. His mind would replay the past few weeks cut memories when he didn't remember her but now he _could_ finish them. They were a combination of love and hate. Those first few days together at the cabin, when he had though that she might be a test from his Handler to check his loyalty, irritated him. The hours he had spent silently planning on how to kill her were the worst. If only they both had understood what was happening between them…they could have had so many more days being ' _together'_ instead of just three.

"Any plans for today?" Star asked moving to the closet to get dressed, placing her mug on the nightstand.

"Steve's coming over and we are going to get lunch together," he told her as she dressed a bit down compared to the rest of the week. Star put on a pair of jeans and a pull-over top with an open blouse over it.

"It's Friday. I usually dress a bit more casual," she told him seeing his curious expression.

"Does that mean your hair goes down today?" he asked blocking the doorway.

"Partially. I always braid it but it will hang today instead of being in a bun," she grinned at him.

Last night, she had let him brush through it just like he had done at the cabin. It was another gesture that helped to ease his tension. She had no problems with his strange requests. Thinking of her hair reminded him of the errand he wanted to run.

"I'm going to get Steve to help me with a small errand today," he then started, which got her looking curiously over at him. "I want to find a good barber shop."

Bucky saw a worried expression overcome Star at hearing that.

"Are you alright?" he asked taking a step inside the closet putting his arms around her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said but he heard something in her voice. "I guess it makes sense that you would want to look more like your old self. You don't have to hide you face all the time anymore."

Hearing that, Bucky thought he understood what she was thinking about.

"Remember how at the cabin that I didn't want you to cut your hair?" to which she nodded yes. "I thought, and I know this will sound crazy, that if you cut your hair that you would no longer be the girl I knew…that I was starting to like. But I know that is no longer the case. And just like I said the other day, you don't have to keep your own hair like that for me anymore. I know you, I'm with you, and I'll never forget you again. And no matter what I look like, I will always be your Scary."

Star gave a slight laugh at hearing his reasoning.

"This may sound crazy, but to be honest, thinking of you cutting your hair makes me think that you are trying to get rid of Scary and turn back into Bucky. I know that you _are_ Bucky, but if you get rid of the hair from when you were the Winter Solider, what else would you want to get rid of from when you were him?"

Hearing that, he got a bit better of an appreciation of what she was worried about.

"Star, do you think that I try to look like my old self, that I'll start behaving like my old self…"

"… _'a dame on each arm'_ was how Steve once described you."

Without giving her any way to leave, he tightened his hold and put her back against the closet's wall, pinning Star's body with his own.

"There's only one dame that I want on my arm ever again," he told her taking a possessive kiss from her. He felt her arms slide around his own body pulling him even tighter. Giving her one of his cheeky grins, "I'll prove it to you tonight once Steve leaves…multiple times."

He loved the sound of the laugh she gave.

"Scary, you don't have to prove anything like that…it's just my own insecurities coming through," she told him. "I've been alone for so long, dreaming of having you finally with me, and now that it has happened, I keep waiting for…"

"The other shoe to drop?"

Star nodded with a look of sadness on her face. They had the same worries but from different directions.

"I've been thinking the same thing, but trust me when I say that it will _not_ be another dame that comes between us," he gave her another kiss before easing his grip on her.

"Can I at least get a picture of you like this before I leave for work?"

"You really like my hair looking like a mop top?"

"It's what I have been remembering for thirty years," she pointed out to him.

"In that case, I'll get something not as dramatic as I was originally planning."

"Were you going to go military short?" she asked him running her fingers through his shaggy locks.

"I had thought about it. I only have it this long because of Hydra."

Star's eyes began to reflect a new sadness there but she nodded in understanding.

"You do whatever you want with it as long as you promise to keep coming home."

The thought that if it was too short that she would have no reason to run her fingers over his scalp made him instantly decide to keep it longer than originally planned. He would not do anything to loose the calming sensation of her touches.

"That is one promise you don't have to worry about," he told her as she leaned up for another kiss.

Off in the bedroom, they heard the sound of Star's phone informing her of a message.

"I know that is probably Sherry wanting to know how soon till I get there," she told him as they broke apart so she could get to her phone. He began to undress as she picked her phone up, "Yep, she wants to know if I need coffee for the morning meeting but I'm sure she's going to try and grill me about my mystery man again."

She had already told him about how Sherry had been casually asking questions about her new beau over the past few days without any real success. They decided they would figure out later on what to tell her about him.

"You didn't drink any of the coffee at the cabin," he commented almost to himself as he heard the clicking sound of a picture being taken before she put the phone in her pocket. At least he was still in his boxers.

"Nope. I didn't like it then. I only started drinking it during college to help me stay awake at night to study," Star said now that she was ready to leave. Heading for the bedroom door, "Besides, with the way you downed it, you probably would have bitten my fingers off if I tried to drink any."

With those final teasing words, Star hastily made her way from the room and down the steps as he went after her. Once he had her pinned to the front door, he informed her that she would be making it up to him later tonight once they were alone.

* * *

Just before noon, Steve rang the doorbell as he looked around the quiet neighborhood. Most people around here worked during the day so it was fairly peaceful. Only a few older people walking pets.

Bucky opened the door, dressed and ready to go with his jacket already on.

"So what is this errand that you have in mind?" he asked as Bucky locked the door and they headed for the sidewalk.

"I want to get my hair cut," he told him, making Steve stop in his tracks.

" _Really_?"

Bucky gave him a strange look before answering, "What _is it_ with everyone and _my hair_?"

Steve couldn't help but grin. "What? Did Star say something too?"

"Yeah," he admitted as they started to move down the sidewalk again. "But Star admitted that it was because she was a bit worried about me not being her Scary anymore and turning back into Bucky."

After all the talks that Star had with him over the past months, he could understand where she was coming from. His comment came from a similar idea.

"I can see her worrying about that. She's had a very long time to build you up in her mind, and all of it would be from how you looked when the two of you were together."

"I've been thinking similar to that since she went to work," Bucky told him. "But I want to get it a bit shorter, maybe something more modern with length."

"There are plenty of styles nowadays with guys having longer hair than we used to keep it."

"Then that's what I want to try," he said running his hand through the mess to get it up out of the way.

"I'll take you to the guy who does mine. I think you'll like him," Steve said as they reached the intersection. "So lunch or hair first?"

Bucky suddenly looked a bit worried from being asked a simple question.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"I think that we need to do the hair first, that way I don't chicken out," he said but he didn't understand what he meant. Bucky then continued, "This will be my first haircut since I shipped out overseas."

That was when the understanding really hit Steve.

"So when you were awake throughout the years, nobody _ever_ cut your hair? This is how much it has grown since we went to the Stark Expo?"

"Yeah. Hair doesn't grow when you're frozen," he tried to sound like he was joking but Steve could hear Bucky's voice was hesitant.

"I know the feeling," Steve looked over at him and smiled, knowing that this was at least one thing that they shared.

"Even when I met Star, it was a bit shorter then. Sometimes I would be out for weeks. There was even a few times when it was months. But part of my conditioning from my Handler was that keeping it long helped hide my face."

"Like that phrase you said at lunch the other day?" he asked.

Bucky nodded while looking like he wanted to say more.

"Buck, you don't have to hold back from telling me anything. I want to be here for you, just like Star and Sam are."

After a few extra moments, Bucky finally admitted, "When we were at lunch, and I said my conditioning phrase, I had a flashback to when I had said the exact same thing to Star, not long after we had met. She then picked up a hairbrush and began to brush the hair out of my face, carefully working at all the tangles. What got to me at lunch was that due to her being nice and kind to me…I decided to make sure that she did not suffer when I killed her."

Steve felt his heart drop at hearing that. To think that Bucky had been through something so strange that to him ending a life quickly was showing mercy.

"That's what made you nauseous at the restaurant? Because of that flashback of Star?" he asked to which Bucky nodded. "I didn't realize that you had remembered _anything_ about her. With her being out of town, I didn't want her worried about what was happening with you so I had not told her that you had come out of hiding."

"She was the reason that I needed to get my files. All of my other missions, I can recall once they surface. But with Star's memories, they were all broken up and physically painful. Bits and pieces over the time we spend together, during those first day and none of them were after we…"

His voice trailed off, as if he was slightly embarrassed...not like he used to be.

"I know…became intimate. I guess that was one thing that Hydra couldn't take away from you," Steve grinned at him. "You always did have a way with the ladies."

"But not anymore," Bucky then said, catching his attention. "Star told me this morning that she was a bit worried that I'll start back with my old ways. I told her she didn't have to worry about that."

"You really do care for her, don't you?"

"Steve, I love her. Somehow the scared, frightened, abused girl I found out in the woods found a way to see past the monster that Hydra made me. Every soldier at the base was always on guard when I was around, but Star never tensed up in fright when I got close to her once she realized that I was not going to hurt her like Kozlov did. She talked to me as if I were anyone else. She teased me, trying to get me to laugh, something I had not done in decades...only I didn't remember that."

"Can I ask what your best memory of her is?" Steve asked, then had to amend, "Not involving sex."

Bucky laughed out loud at that, another sound that Steve had missed. He was glad that he was finally sharing for the first time since he returned.

"I don't think that there is just one. There are a few that stand out, each special in their own way. But there is one that I want you to know about. It's not a good one, but it is important. Has Star told you exactly what happened when the other guys showed up at the cabin?"

"She explained that three guys showed up to kill Kozlov, and after they tied her up that you came and killed them, saving her."

"Then she didn't tell you what really happened," Bucky said making Steve wonder what he meant. "That was the morning that I planned on killing Star."

Steve knew that anyone looking at him could tell he was shocked at hearing that.

"I had left the cabin so that I could sneak back inside later, without Star seeing me. But as I was on the way back, I heard her scream as one of the guys hurt her. Hearing her in pain…Steve, I've never felt that way before. After taking down two of the guys outside, I stepped into the cabin to find the third one holding Star in front of him as he pointed the gun under her chin. Her arms were tied painfully bent over her head with the rope wrapped around her neck numerous times. He had removed her shirt and then demanded that I let him leave with Star."

Steve felt his own chest tighten a bit at hearing that. At the time, Bucky would have had no reason to not let them take her…if he had wanted.

"Star then begged me to finish my mission…to shoot her instead of letting the man take her."

"She asked that of you?"

"Yeah. But even though I didn't understand what I was feeling, I knew that there was no way I could hurt her like that and the man hurting her was not ever leaving there alive. I put my gun onto the record player because I didn't want to take the chance of Star getting hurt. But she thought that I was giving in to him, that I _was_ going to let him take her."

"Oh, hell. Star...what she must have been feeling…"

"I know. She started crying. It hurt me inside to think that she hated me in that moment. But then the man turned his gun on me, thinking that he had an easy shot. When he went to fire, Star leaned her body into his, knocking his arm away and causing the two of them to fall to the ground. She was trying to save me from getting shot, not knowing that I could still defend myself," he said flexing his left arm to Steve understood.

"Even with her believing that you were allowing him to take her, she did that for you? Star definitely did not tell me the full story then," Steve told him as he saw the sign for the barber shop coming into view.

"When she did that move, she also _still_ believed that I would eventually _kill_ her. Even now, I still don't fully understand why she would do that for me," Bucky admitted.

"When we first met, I asked Star if she had fallen in love with you and she admitted that she had. From the few stories that she has told me, it sounds like you were always kind to her, even considering what she believed would happen. She hadn't had that in a long time."

"That's the exact same reason that I think I fell in love with her," Bucky told him. "I may not have remembered my missions but my conditioning and training was still there. And I knew that she treated me better than anyone else from the base ever did."

"Even though it took a while, I'm glad that it seems to be working out for the two of you," he told him as they stopped right outside of the shop. "I know that she has confessed it, but have you ever told Star that you actually do love her?"

"I've told her a couple of times, but I guess that old saying of actions speak louder than words might have some weight. I know of at least one guy in the past tell her that he loved her but then turned around and really hurt her."

Steve did like not hearing that, knowing part of what she went through.

"Just keep telling her and eventually you will prove it to her."

"I plan on proving it to her many times…" Bucky's salacious comment made him chuckle.

"You mean like when you ruined…"

"If you mention that damn blanket again, I might just throw you back into the river," Bucky grinned and poked his finger into Steve's chest. The two of them entered the barber shop laughing.

It was good to see his old friend finally coming back.

* * *

With a thick Irish brogue, the man behind the ornate wooden desk asked, "How did the snatch and grab go?"

"Not a bit of a problem. Tommy says that we'll know everything before the weekend is over," the other man replied with an accent just as heavy. "So far, we know that Alan was the one to snitch to the F.B.I. His was the only container to be confiscated at customs. All of the other ones made it through. Splitting the shipment up like that was a good call, Sir."

"Just an idea that dear ole' Da came up with. He can't help but keep his hands in the business. The girls have been distributed to the shops around town already?"

"Yeah, they were cleaned up and already been put to work. Not a one of 'em speaks English. We shouldn't have any problems with the lot."

"Remind Tommy how important it is to find out who this Fed contact of Alan's is. As soon as you learn that, see what you can find on 'em. I want whoever he names in his workroom before mid-week. If the Feds are in fact planning on trying to shut down every shop, then we need to put a stop to it. The money from those places keep the local cops and judges off our backs, as well as greasing a few politician's hands. We can't afford to lose them."

"I'll let him know."


	57. Arriving Home For Movie Night

**Song: _Sweet Dreams_ by Eurythmics**

* * *

Star parked the car and grabbed the dessert she had picked up for tonight. The lights from the den gave a soft glow through the curtains so she knew that Scary was home, making her smile, and that Steve was probably already here. Reaching the front door, it swung open for her, startling her a bit with the action.

"Sorry," Scary stood there with a grin looking…well damn…fucking dreamalicious. As if she hadn't been insecure enough this morning…

"No, it's fine. I'm just still not used to being welcomed home," she told him stepping inside while not being able to take her eyes off of him. He closed the door before turning to see her glaring at him so he just gave her that smile that he did sometimes, the one that she considered Bucky's.

"I take it that you approve of the haircut?" he asked as she started to feel a bit of doubt creep back into her. Scary…Bucky?...had left it a bit longer than his old pictures showed but it was much shorter than this morning. It was swept back off of his face and long enough to be tucked behind his ears while it stopped short of touching his shoulders. His five o'clock shadow was just a perfect length. His shiny electric blue eyes were drilling into her and she was starting to feel slightly flustered for lusting after Bucky, not Scary.

"You look…" she could feel her throat tightening slightly as she managed to say, "very nice."

Scary tilted his head to look at her, not seeming to like her answer.

"Nice? Star, what's wrong?" he asked her so she finally broke eye contact and headed for the kitchen. She placed the cake down on to the countertop without answering him. He then took her hand into his, turning her around so that she was facing him, but she couldn't look up at him. "Hey, it's just a haircut. I'm still me. I'm still your Scary, just like I told you this morning."

"That name has never been more inappropriate than right now," she somehow admitted allowed.

"Star," he said putting the tip of his silver finger under her chin, raising it so that she had to look at him, "Talking with Steve today, I realized that you have some trust issues thanks to that jerk in your past but you will never have to worry about them from me. Do you know why?"

All she could do was look at him and wonder why he would still be interested in a spinster like her.

"Star, I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. Which part didn't you catch?" he did that grin again, the one that made her knees weak. But with how Scary looked right now, she almost did fall. "I know I've _said_ it a few times, but I want you to understand that I _mean_ it. What did you think I was going to say?"

There was no way that she could admit it to him again that she was waiting…

"Star," he then took both of her wrists into his hands, pinning them behind her back as he pulled her body hard against his. She knew what he was about to say. "Tell me."

"It's just the same junk as we talked about this morning, that's all."

"No, there is something more and I want you to tell me. You don't have anything to be worried about, but if you don't admit your fears to me, then how can I assure you that they don't really exist."

Dropping her head to rest on his firm chest, she knew that he was not going to let this topic go, and there was no way that she would lie to him. Star had a feeling that he know if she even tried. Maybe she just needed to voice the fear again, that way he didn't feel obligated to stay...

"I'm waiting for you to realize that you can do better than me."

"Why would you think that? Have I ever said or done anything to give you that impression?" he asked her holding her slightly tighter, his head coming to rest on top of hers.

"No, but that doesn't mean that it won't happen. Once you are more comfortable with having a normal life, you'll start to meet other people, younger people than me. Females your own age, and I'm not talking cryo age, so don't try to pull that bullshit with me again. I've gotten used to being alone and I figured I always would be. If I get used to you being here, and then when you do decide to leave…I don't think I could take that."

For the next few moments she waited for him to say anything...to try to deny her fear, but she knew he couldn't. He had found something familiar with her, and Steve, and that was what he needed right now. But as Scary discovered his new world, he eventually would want someone new to share it with. When he still hadn't said anything for what she considered to be too long, Star slowly lifted her head from his chest, his own moving so that she could. And what she saw made her wish she hadn't moved.

Scary's blue eyes were now so piercing that she felt like crying from the pain they were causing her. Suddenly, she found herself lifted up off of the floor and carried across the room to the couch. Plopping her down onto the center of it, Scary then stood glaring down at her with a stern look on his face.

"Are you unhappy? Do you _want_ me to leave?" he asked her.

"No," she quickly spit out as her face began to flush and her eyes began to burn.

"Then why are you so worried that I _want_ to leave?"

"I told you at Steve's place. I'm an old spinster. And not only are you still the same, but thanks to a simple haircut, getting better looking each day."

Scary then knelt on the floor before her, his hands taking hers.

"I didn't just do this for me. I did this for you. I can't go around looking like the same vagabond that I have been for the past few months. You should have seen me that first day when I walked into Steve's apartment. I hadn't shaved in months, and only a single bath in a week's time before putting back on the same dirty clothes. You deserve to have someone presentable by your side. Not that I'll _ever_ let anyone else take that place."

Hearing him express himself like that, Star felt herself starting to calm back down.

"You honestly don't have any problem with me being older than you now?" she had to ask again.

There was a softening of his face, a sparkle that appeared in his eyes as he spoke in a smooth, resolute voice.

"I only regret that I wasn't able to be with you for the past thirty years so that we could have grown older together."

That was it. That was the sentence that made the tears start to flow.

Warm, strong arms then wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace as she cried.

"That morning, when we were standing at the cars ready to leave, and you took my hand…do you remember how it took me a long time to give you my promise?" he asked as he knelt between her legs to embrace her.

Star nodded her head in response as she looked up at him, slightly embarrassed at being so emotional.

"Why do you think that it did?"

Finding her shaky voice, "I always thought that you were trying to figure out what I wanted to hear. To placate me so that I didn't cause a scene."

"No, Doll. I was calculating out the chances of leaving there with you…of running from Hydra so that we could stay together. But every time that I thought of them catching us, knowing that they would kill you when they did, it hurt me right here," Scary was pointing his fingers at the center of his chest. "I may not have understood then what I was feeling, but Star…I've loved you since the cabin and there is nothing and no one that is ever going to change that."

Right then, the front door opened, causing both of them to stare at Steve who paused a step inside as he understood that he had walked into something important and emotional. In his hand was a bag from the small neighborhood corner store just down the street.

"Am I interrupting? Do I need to go sit on the stoop outside for a bit?" he humorously asked.

"No, I was just telling Star something that I should have known to tell her thirty years ago."

There was no mistaking the knowing smile from Steve as he shut the door behind him. Star then began to wipe away the tear streaks from her face and Scary reached up with his flesh hand to help with the task.

"Well, I always thought that you were a bit clueless when it came to dames," Steve said putting the bag onto the island.

"Clueless? Me? And here I was thinking that _I_ was the one with memory problems," Scary said moving from the floor so that he now sat next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to pull her into an embrace.

"Yes, you. Because no matter how many dates you kept trying to set me up on, you never figured out that dames didn't want a scrawny weakling that would blow over on a windy day."

"That's not it and you know it. I just had faith that there was a dame out there who would see you for who you really were, not what you looked like," he told his friend. "I just can't figure out why you still haven't found anyone."

"Hasn't he told you about Sharon?" Star asked Scary wondering if they'd had a chance to talk about her.

"Sharon?" Scary voice sounded pleased.

"Yeah. You would probably remember her as my next door neighbor who showed up after you shot Fury," Steve told him as he began to pull a bunch of different sodas from the bag and put them into the fridge.

"The cute blond nurse? No, wait…she was S.H.I.E.L.D. The mission report mentioned that she was set up as protection for you."

"Yeah, that's her," Steve said. "After their fall, she joined the C.I.A. so I don't get to see her anymore."

"So, does this mean that we have a new mission of finding Steve a girlfriend?" she decided to ask Scary, getting a grin from him.

"Oh, no, you two," he said pointing at them. "Spend your time together on your own relationship and leave me alone."

"So defensive," Star said.

"Well, I actually have no problem with that request," Scary said leaning over to kiss her.

"So, what's with all the types of soda?" she asked looking at the items.

"Steve said that the two of you talked about how we drank sodas at the cabin. He then pointed out that with pizza that soda was the drink of choice, but I haven't had one in a long time. Even on the run, I stuck to water since it would not go bad."

"I went to the corner store and grabbed a couple of different brands for him to try tonight."

"That's a great idea," she told him as Steve came to sit on the couch with them. "I planned on ordering about three kinds of pizza so that he could find a favorite."

"Then let's get this movie night started," Steve said.

* * *

Close to midnight, the three of them were still sitting on the couch, but only two of them were awake. Within the past hour, Star had fallen asleep next to him. At some point, she had stretched out and placed her feet over Steve's legs, earning a slight chuckle from both of them as he just let them stay.

On the coffee table were numerous empty soda bottles as well as a finished off tin of Turkish Delights, mostly thanks to him and Steve. Sitting in the kitchen was only a couple of remaining slices of the lemon bundt cake Star had picked up. He and Steve had each eaten about four slices over the past few hours. All of that was even after consuming most of the three large pizzas.

Star had started the night with two of the movies she had told him about during her driving lesson, _Smokey and the Bandit_ and _Vanishing Point_. After that, she had put on a movie that looked old but was only a few years old, _Death Proof_. She firmly stated that the second part was the better of the two. But she had fallen asleep before that part even started.

" _That_ was different," Steve spoke low as the credits started running on the screen while three women bashed in the bad guy's head.

"That's an _understatement_ ," he told him as he tried to reach for the remotes but they were too far away with how Star laying against him. If he moved enough to get them, Star would wake up and right now he was enjoying the moment too much. Seeing the dilemma he was in, Steve reached over and grabbed the remote, turning the volume far down so they could talk.

Looking down, he saw that Star looked just like she had so long ago that night outside on the couch by the fire, bringing a smile to his face.

"What are you thinking about?" Steve asked him with his own grin. The Punk really liked seeing him happy.

"Back at the cabin, the day that I first taught Star to shoot just for fun. That night, she cooked us steaks over the fire pit that was there. After we ate, we went back outside and sat on the couch that I pulled from the guard's house. It was cold and she had a blanket over her but it was nice just to sit there together. She talked for hours about anything as we sat in front of the fire before she fell asleep…leaning on me just as she is right now."

"This was during the time that she still thought you were going to kill her?"

"Yeah. It was another time that I couldn't understand why she wasn't scared or mad at me. Earlier that day, she had asked me about Kozlov, when I had killed him. He…" Bucky stopped talking, realizing that he hadn't actually intended to share any of his killings with Steve. He had earlier with Aleksey's but that was someone who was hurting Star, not an actual target.

"Buck, you don't have to worry about talking with me. I know some of what you went through, and I'm not ever going to judge you for what they made you do."

He wanted to share stories concerning Star with Steve. She was the love of his life and he was his best friend. Steve deserved to know everything about his wonderful girl. Kozlov was an unfortunate item intertwined with them.

"Kozlov begged me to not kill him, trying to bribe me with money. Star was only feet away, still locked inside of the kennel and I still thought that it held a real dog. She heard him begging. Later on, I found out that he used to make her beg for stuff...food, water, to stop hurting her. While we were at the lake shooting, she told me then that she was going to be better than Kozlov, that she would not beg for her life as he had. That she would never beg for anything again."

Steve brows furrowed at hearing that and Bucky knew exactly what he was thinking about.

"Yes, days later she _did_ beg for something…for me to kill her instead of letting Aleksey take her."

"I still can't believe she did that."

"She hasn't told you too much about what she truly went through, has she?" he asked as he ran her braid through his hand.

"Not really. She told me about the scars on her hands since I saw them. She also mentioned that she has a lot more, but I didn't want to drag up the past like that for her."

Reaching down a bit, he was able to lift the very edge of her shirt, giving Steve a partial glance at the edge of her back. There were some of the numerous scars visible to him. Steve closed his eyes, turning his head away from the painful sight. He had not even seen the worst deep ruts that were closer to her spine. The edge he'd seen was tame compared to the rest of her back.

"Not only did he physically beat her but he did…horrible stuff to her, Steve. I may have killed people, but what Kozlov did…it was sick and perverted," he told him. They sat quiet for a few moments before he continued, "That night when she fell asleep like this, I found out that every year while he attended the opening night of the ballet, that Kozlov would lock her naked inside of a freezer to keep his men from getting to her."

Even in the darkened room, he could see a bit of paleness come over Steve's face.

"He didn't?" he asked and his voice pleaded to know that he'd heard wrong.

"When she got too cold as she slept, it brought out the nightmare of that happening to her. There were a couple of nights when I would hear Star talking in her sleep, begging to be ' _let out'_ of somewhere. Even the other night, I had rolled from laying on my side next to her onto my back, dragging the cover with me. I heard her start whispering it in her sleep after a few minutes. She _still_ dreams about it. That wasn't even the sickest thing he did…that I _do_ know about."

"When I came in, and the two of you were talking, it seemed like there was something more than you just telling her what we talked about earlier," Steve said probably hoping to learn what was behind her crying.

"Let me put her into bed, and then we can talk a bit. I'll drive you home since it's so late," he told him.

"Alright," Steve agreed.

Carefully, he slid off the couch and picked Star up in his arms as he had so many times at the cabin. Carrying her up the stairs, she must have been very tired because she barely stirred as he laid her down in the bed. It was only as he was pulling her jeans off that she finally woke up enough to notice that something was happening.

"Hey, Doll, go back to sleep. I'm just taking your jeans off."

"Like always," she joked in a whisper.

"Not this time. So that you'll be comfortable," he said tossing them across the room and making quick work of removing her shirt and bra before pulling the blanket up over her. "Can I use your car to drive Steve home since it's so late?"

"Of course," she smiled at him with closed eyes. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," he told her as he gave her forehead a kiss. Glancing back at her from the doorway, she was already back asleep.

Making his way back downstairs, Steve had turned on the kitchen lights and was cleaning up the pizza boxes and empty soda bottles. Sitting with his best friend and best girl tonight, eating and joking had been the best time he'd had in a long while.

"There's only a few slices left," Steve told him, holding open the box he had put all the remaining slices into. Bucky grabbed the one that had been mostly meat and Steve grabbed the same. They both sat at the bar eating in silence for a few minutes.

"When Star got home, she was a bit shocked and worried with how I looked," he started.

"Worried?"

"Yeah. She's worried about our age difference now and this wasn't the first time she's mentioned it," he told him. "Originally, I was only a few years older than her, not counting cryo. But now, she's just over twenty years older. She said that she's waiting for me to find someone closer to my own age and then leave her."

Steve's head dropped a bit at hearing that.

"I've kind of worried about something similar happening with me," Steve admitted, catching Bucky's attention. "It was one of the reasons that I never actively try to pursue Sharon. Even though we are close to the same age, there's a really big gap when it comes to similar interest."

"Well, you both worked for the same agency?" Bucky humorously pointed out.

"I didn't know that at the time, Jerk," Steve shook his head. "But I think that I can see where Star is coming from with her thoughts, even if I don't necessarily agree with them."

"You don't?" Bucky had to ask.

"In all of the years we've known each other, I never once heard you use the word love when talking about a dame. Star is the first."

"There is one thing that I think is bothering her more than others, but she didn't bring it up exactly tonight," he decided to just be as honest with Steve as he could. He didn't think that Star would be angry at telling him, at least he hoped that she didn't.

"What would that be?"

"Back at your apartment, right after I got my memories back, she pointed out that since I was finally free that I could go out and have a family now."

"Star is too old to have kids, and she doesn't want to you miss out on that."

"Not exactly," he said taking a breath before continuing. "Remember how I just said that she had sick things done to her?"

Steve only nodded while putting his pizza on top of the box, preparing himself to hear about this.

"The first thing that Kozlov did to Star after he purchased her was have a doctor remove all of her inside womanly parts. He didn't want any of his ' _pets'_ to get pregnant or be unavailable monthly for sex."

Now Steve really did look pale and nauseous.

"What kind of person could to that to another?"

"The sickest kind. I don't think that Star talks about it with anyone, and she may be mad at me for telling you, but Steve, I need help with this," he admitted.

"What kind of help?"

"I don't know if I'll be able to convince Star that I don't care about that stuff anymore. With what I've done, with my history…I don't want to pass that on to anyone. All I want right now is to feel normal, like you wanted me to try to have, and a big part of that is being able to be with Star."

"I'm guessing that you've already tried pointing out that you care for her."

"Back at your place, all during the week, and tonight. But we haven't been together long enough for it to really mean anything, I think," he said.

"Then just give it time. It hasn't even been a full week. This is new for her too. Star has been waiting thirty years for you to come back, and now that you have, both of you will have to adjust to being together again."

"I still have a hard time believing that she is here for me. She told me that she kept comparing other guys to me and that they never worked out. I don't understand how that is. She fell in love with a killer."

Steve seemed to be thinking of something before he spoke again.

"Star fell in love with the part of you which was Bucky that Hydra couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard they tried."

Bucky gave a bit of a laugh at hearing that, saying, "How can you even think that after what I did to you on the Helicarrier?"

"Because from what Star _did_ tell me, I heard about my friend Bucky coming through the Winter Solider that they turned you into."

"What do you mean, Steve, because I sure don't see it?"

"Really?" he asked looking amused. "Do you think it was the _Winter Soldier_ or _Bucky_ who helped take care of Star's hands and feet when she cut them up by running through the woods?"

Bucky hadn't really thought about it like that. The Solider in him would help a team member if it was necessary to complete a mission. But tending to Star's small cuts…that was more like a Bucky trait.

"Was there any other time that you did something for Star that was not part of Hydra's training?"

He knew exactly what Steve was asking about.

"Yeah. When I heard her having the nightmares about being cold, I would sit on the bed behind her to help warm her up, like I would do for you sometimes during the winter, but by the morning I would put pillows next to her so that she didn't know it was actually me."

"That was only a _part_ of whom Star fell in love with. The _same part_ of you that used to be there for me when _I_ was sick. It may have been _buried_ deep, but they _never_ erased it. Granted, the other part _may have been_ a killer, but look at it from _her_ side. You killed the person who had been _abusing_ her for years. Then, you _protected_ her from more men who would have done the same. Star accepts _everything_ about you. There is _nothing_ that you have to hide from her. She knows it _all_."

Hearing that made him feel better but…

"Steve, she doesn't really know _all_ that I did…"

"Well, she at least knows a _large part_ ," Steve started to tell him. "She and Nat went through your files on the computer a few weeks back hoping to find a connection with Hydra to something that she is currently working on. But there was nothing there. She spent the day reading about other missions of yours."

"You let her _read_ them? The ones from Nat's computer?" Bucky stood up and began pacing around the small kitchen area. He had spent a day doing the same thing and knew _exactly_ what she had read about. " _Damn it_ , Steve. Don't you _know_ what those file _contain_?"

"Yes, because _I_ read through some of them _also_ , _remember_?"

Steve had in fact told him that a few days ago, but now that he'd really had a chance to think about it his gut was churning around that last slice of pizza. He hadn't wanted anyone to know the horrible stuff he'd done, and here he was now putting it together that the two people he specifically was trying to hide it from already knew. Here Star was worried about him leaving her, and now he couldn't understand why she would even want to be with him knowing what he had done.

"Buck, that wasn't _you_. _I_ know that and so does _Star_."

"Yes, it _was_ me," he told him bluntly. "No matter what, _I_ was the one who _ended_ all of those lives."

"No!" Steve said coming over and placing his hand on Bucky's shoulder. " _Hydra_ killed them. You were only the _weapon_. _You_ never would have done it if they hadn't _hurt_ and _manipulated_ you into working for them. That's _not_ who _you_ are."

Bucky then looked over at him, saying, "You seem to have forgotten that I was a sniper with the Howlers. I was a very good killer _before_ Hydra found me."

" _That_ was war. We _all_ did what had to be done back then. But the real you would _never_ have _willing_ killed any of those people from the files."

He knew that Steve was right about that, but the guilt of what he had done was still there inside of him and always would be. The two of them moved back over to the island and sat down again.

"And when it comes to Star, has she given you any indication that _she_ doesn't want to be with you?" Steve asked him.

"No. She's only worried that _I'll_ leave _her_. She's worried that once I get _readjusted_ to living a normal life, that I'll _move on_ from her," he told him.

"She's known what was in those files _before_ you ever came back. I've never heard her say anything to indicate that they upset her so that she didn't want to be with you. If anything…" Steve then paused, making him a bit concerned.

"What, Steve?"

Taking a breath, "We were talking one night after having dinner. I told her about how we found the Vault after the Helicarriers. I mentioned that you had gone back there and how all of the scientist inside were killed…and that you had done it. Instead of her being shocked, she actually said ' _good'_ about their deaths. I believe that she really has no problem with _anything_ you've done."

Bucky nodded his head, remembering that day.

"Would you tell me what happened in the Vault?" Steve requested sounding hesitant, as if he were worried that he might go off on him.

Taking a breath, he decided to be honest about this and see what happened.

"When I left you on the river, I had not really remembered anything solid. My compliance training told me to return to my base of operation, which at that time was the Vault. When I got there, the Hydra scientists commanded me to sit in the Chair and wait for a superior to arrive to give me instructions."

Steve looked a bit worried now but he didn't say anything.

"Seeing the Chair, I knew that it would remove the little bit that I had remembered about you. Something nagging at me told me that I couldn't let that happen," he told him. "As the day went on, nobody else returned. The scientist began to whisper, worried about what to do with me. One of them tried to give instructions to go ahead with the wipe. I'd remembered just enough to make myself run, to not comply. Most of the actual guards had gone to the Triskelion to make sure Project Insight took off. The remaining ones were no match for me, even with my arm dislocated. Once they were all dead, I reset my arm, raided the base for anything I could use to run…money, clothes, concealable weapons. I hid in the city for two days, waiting for Hydra to come after me for what I had done. But nobody ever did. When I heard about your exhibit at the museum, I went there to try and find out if what I was starting to recall was real."

"Both me and Star have also been there, but at different times. She went years ago right after it opened."

"She went there _then_?" he asked a bit worried at hearing that.

"What's wrong _now_?" Steve huffed out.

"I told her that she needed to be _careful_ , that Hydra was _everywhere_. Now, I'm finding out that she not only contacted _you_ but went somewhere with my _real identity_. If they had been _watching_ …"

"Buck, calm down," Steve told him patting his shoulder. "It was a museum exhibit about me. I really doubt that Hydra was _scoping it out_ on the off chance that someone was there looking for information about the Winter Soldier. As for contacting me, Star pointed out that not only had she been _researching_ me for _thirty years_ and knew that we were _best_ _friends_ , but it was only _after_ the fall of Hydra that she _did_ contact me. She didn't just _rush out_ to find me as soon as I woke up. She waited _years_ after I had been back."

Hearing that did make him feel a bit better.

"I kept stressing to her that Hydra was _everywhere_. I needed her to be paranoid about them so that she would be _safe_."

"And you did just that. But she was worried about you. That was the only reason Star came to me. She knew that she _could_ trust me. If anything, you did such a good job that she _still_ has trust issues. Sam only found out about the two of you during the run, and Nat only found out about your connection over the phone the other day even though she and Star talked a bit about what happened to her in Russia."

It actually made him a bit relieved at hearing that, knowing that Star had taken precautions before even talking to Steve. He remembered Star mentioning that she didn't trust Sam while they talked under the tree, and now it made a lot more sense.

"So, any other words of wisdom I can bestow upon you this night?" Steve teased him.

"Yeah," he said turning to him, "When did you become so knowledgeable about dames and relationships?"

"Just natural talent," Steve grinned at him.

Bucky headed over to the key rack hanging near the closet, grabbing Star's keys from it before answering, "There hasn't been anything natural about you since 1943."

"Jerk…"


	58. A Calm Saturday

**Song: _Still In Love_ by Nothing More**

* * *

Star was not sure what had woken her up, but after a few moments, the movement happened again. Scary's lips were trailing down her bare shoulder and arm as his stubble of a beard tickled her skin. She couldn't help but smile as it reminded her so much of how they had woken up one morning at the cabin. Only this time, she didn't have to remind him that he would have to kill her. She just laid there enjoying the feeling of his lips on her skin.

"Morning, Doll," Scary whispered into her ear after a moment, his warm breath brushing her skin, and also stopping the kisses. "I know you are awake."

"Never said I wasn't. I was just trying to enjoy the moment before you ruined it by stopping," she grinned knowing he couldn't see her face.

"Ruined?" there was a devious sound in his voice.

With that, she felt his body begin to slide on top of hers as his hands pushed her from her side onto her back, as he came to rest above her. The weight of his body was a strangely comforting feeling after so long of being alone. There was no mistaking how much she had enjoyed being with him over the past few days…and he seemed to be enjoying himself too.

Looking up at him, his face showed such a focused intensity, so very much like back at the cabin a few times. Seeing it made her breath hitch for a long moment.

"I know that look," she barely managed to breathe out.

"Say it," he requested almost growling.

"Predator," she relented, bringing a strange darkness over his face, but for some reason it did not frighten her.

"And you are my prey," Scary's voice rumbled from his chest which was laying atop of hers, causing her body to flush with a burning heat at hearing that. There must have been some noticeable change in her body because his own then pressed down onto hers, trapping her underneath him so that there was not a chance of her leaving him. His lips found hers with a hunger that she returned while latching onto his head, gripping the remaining lengths of hair to hold him in place.

After a few moments, Scary pulled up from her, saying, "Now I know why you wanted me to keep my hair long."

"All the better to trap you with," she grinned up at him as she felt his body moving.

The cold hand slid up from her belly underneath of her thin night shirt. As it continued higher, he took her shirt with it until Scary grabbed the edge and lifted it over her head, tossing it anywhere else. His hand then went to the nape of her neck, with just the right amount of pressure as it tightened to lift her neck, exposing it so that Scary's lips could explore anywhere he wanted.

As his lips planted needy kisses, Star felt his teeth eventually raking firmly over the sensitive skin, making her chest heave with desire. His hips were now grinding firmly between her legs, and there was no mistaking how eager his body was for more, but still he kept exploring with his lips. When his tongue raked over her tattoo, it sent a shiver through her body as the warmth between her own legs built hotter.

"Mine," she heard right before she felt her panties being ripped down and off of her body. Star knew that if anyone else had done that to her, she would have been angry, but this was what she had been waiting so long for. The protective, possessiveness that Scary would turn on her every so often when they were back at the cabin. Never once had Scary hurt her, unlike Kozlov or the others since him, she knew that he never really would. She had tried to find this same level of trust in others, but it seemed that she never could give in to another as she had Scary.

Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around his hard shaft, causing another rumble from his chest as she stroked. His hips began to move in time with her hand, his eyes turning on her with a carnal demand. Guiding his body, Scary began to gently slide inside but only at first. Once he was within her, his body drove deep, firmly penetrating her so that a low cry of pleasure escaped her lips without trying. With each of the following voracious thrust, she could feel his need to reclaim her after so long.

When her nails began to rake down his back, Star did hear an audible growl from Scary as his body gave her what she had been missing for so long. Grabbing onto her right leg, he bent it up so that it rested against her chest as he leaned down to kiss the area around her tattoo. Scary then took both of her wrists into his metal one, pulling them over her head as he continued to provoke screams of pleasure from her as he pinned her body firmly against his.

Without needing to be told, she screamed his name as her own body finally peaked but he continued to drive into her causing her body to keep riding the wave of pleasure over and over. All she could do was close her eyes and wail with each sweet penetration. By the time her third orgasm tried to subside, Scary's body's finally relented its wonderful punishment on hers as he finally stilled, his perspire covered head resting on her shoulder.

It took a few moments before Scary's rapid breathing finally turned calmer, allowing him to lift his head to look at her. But when he did, Star didn't understand why there was a look of panic on his face. Glancing over her head, he saw that he was still latched onto her arms, then releasing her as if he had been burned.

"What's wrong?" she asked as he sat up, moving her hands to his chest, running her fingers over the smooth metal.

"Star…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I forced…" he managed to stammer out, and she understood what he thought was wrong.

Grabbing onto his face with her hands, she held him there as his body tried to back off from her.

"No, Scary…you did nothing wrong," she assured him, looking him in the eyes to show that she was sincere.

"But what I just did, I held you down. I took what I wanted," his voice was strained as he looked away. "Like Kozlov would have."

"Hey!" she angrily yelled, partially shaking his head so that his eyes returned to hers, " _Never_ say that! Don't you _ever_ say that again!"

Star could still see the doubt written on his face. Releasing him, Scary moved so that he was back on his spot of the bed. She could see how upset he was but there was no reason for him to be.

They were going to have to have a serious talk, she realized. Sitting up, Star eventually stopped once she was straddling Scary's body, as if she could pin him down if he really wanted to leave.

"Scary, I know that this may be a bit strange and hard to hear, but having you hold me like that…I like it and I've missed it," she admitted, getting a curious expression from him.

"What…how?"

"After I broke up with the last guy I was seeing, I went to see a sex therapist. Since coming home, I've had a lot of problems when it came to being intimate with guys. They were alright, but sex didn't…thrill me the way it did when we were together. You know that I never wanted to be with Kozlov. But the therapist seemed to think that with how I was introduced to sex for the first time, and for so long, that it left an impression on me."

Star didn't like seeing the look that came over him at hearing that bit. How would he take the rest…

"But when I was with you, there was a trust that I never had with Kozlov. Even back at the cabin, the few times you did something dominating, I trusted you to not hurt me…and you never did. Over the years, I could never find that with anyone else...and I've missed it."

She would almost call the look in his eyes hurt at hearing that.

"I didn't know back then at the time exactly what I was doing when I held you," he admitted. "To me, being in control like that…it felt like when I was in control of a mission. That it was just a natural part of me."

"And to me, that is fine," she said running her hands over his chest as he seemed to let a bit of tension from his body finally go. "I know with you, that _if_ I asked, you would stop and release me without hesitation. Kozlov never would…and neither did one of the others."

There was that darkness in him coming through again after hearing that.

"What do you mean?" he sounded angry and frightened at the same time.

"I may not have told anyone about my past, but I asked them to…hold me, like you would do sometimes. But, it wasn't the same. After one of them held me down for too long, taking it further than I wanted, I panicked and broke it off with him. I just couldn't…"

Scary reached up and pulled her down onto his chest, encasing her in an embrace of comfort that she hadn't had in so long.

"How long has it been since then?" he asked.

"Eight years," she admitted. She felt his head shift to glare at her.

"What about whoever came after him?"

"He's holding me right now."

The room was silent for a long time before he spoke.

"You've gone eight years without…dating?" she could hear a slight playfulness as he said that.

"I was happier with your memory than I was physically with someone else. How messed up is that?"

The arms encasing her tightened even more and her own slipped under him as much as they could. At some point, Star fell asleep letting him hold her. She hadn't been this wonderfully exhausted in decades.

* * *

Holding the cup of coffee as close to Star as he could, he grinned as he watched her nose start to twitch from smelling the brew. When one eye cracked open, a smile crossed her lips making him feel much better than he had earlier this morning.

"I got breakfast ready downstairs so you'll have to get up," he told her as she stretched her naked body making him suddenly hungry for something other than food.

"I'm going to have to teach you about breakfast in bed…soon," she grinned.

"Sex and food, all in one place. I can _definitely_ do that," he said passing the mug to her now that she was sitting up. Moving to the closet, he pulled out one of his large t-shirts and placed it next to her, earning him a look. "Today there is no work, no running, no Steve, Nat, or Sam. Just the two of us spending the entire day together, and I want you to look like I remember."

"Does that mean I have to wear a pair of you boxers?" she cheekily asked.

Leaning down close, he gave her a quick kiss before answer, "No boxers at all."

"Kinky," she grinned at him as he helped her up.

They ate the scrambled eggs, cut up fruit, toast and jam that he had at the island. He really liked how she looked sitting there in his oversized shirt, her legs exposed while her toes kept coming over to touch his own bare foot.

"Were you wanting to spend the entire day inside?" she asked him when they were about finished.

"Did you have something else in mind?"

"There's a few errands that I wanted to run, but they shouldn't take long. Then we can have the entire rest of the day to do nothing," she told him finishing up her coffee.

" _Nothing_ is not _exactly_ what I had in mind," he gave her one of his smiles.

"Oh, I'm _sure_ of that," Star got up, taking their plates to the sink.

He went over and they finished cleaning the kitchen in no time, even with his hands distracting her by constantly lifting the shirt to view her bare ass cheeks. Bucky enjoyed the laughter from her as he kept grazing his fingers over her, earning him a couple of splashes of water like she had done at the cabin. Not wanting to delay them from returning, and really looking forward to what would happen then, he managed to let Star get dressed but he was not happy about it.

Less than half an hour later, they were standing outside of a hair salon and as he stared at the place he felt a bit strange inside.

"Why are we _here_?" he asked while dreading the known answer.

"I told you a few days ago that I needed a small trim," she told him before getting a wicked smile on her face. "So _you_ can go out and get a haircut but if _I_ want one, you are going to spaz out?"

"I do not ' _spaz out_ '," he firmly stated.

"Sure," Star said pushing the door open so he quietly followed her inside.

The next few minutes were a bit surreal to him. The three women cutting hair all greeted Star as if they had known her for years. He took a seat in the small waiting area up front as Star headed back to one of the free chairs next to one of the women. Trying to listen to them, he noticed that their voices dropped suspiciously low for a few moments before the woman turned to look at him with a knowing smile. The other stylist eventually made their way to Star, also talking in hushed tones before turning their attentions to him. It reminded him of the girls from when he was younger, examining which of the guys they would be going for that night.

When the seated woman got up, Star took her spot as the lady began to brush her long hair, making him slightly jealous with the action. Seeing her pick up the scissors, he felt his pulse actually start to race a bit. _Now_ he knew _exactly_ how Star had felt yesterday. He watched as about six inches of hair gently fell to the ground, making him feel a lot better suddenly. By the time that Star stood up, her hair was almost the same length as when he first met her, but it formed a smooth straight line across her back.

"I saw that look," she said after they had left the salon, but only after having met Caroline who wanted to know if he had an available brother. He laughed thinking of Steve and thinking that it would be funny to set him up on a date.

"What look?"

"The same one from that day in the cabin. It's probably the same one I had yesterday morning," she admitted.

Wrapping her hand into his, they walked down the street towards the grocery store she wanted to go to next.

"Why does hair mean so much? I don't get it," he asked.

"Not sure. Caroline has been asking me for years to let her cut my hair and donate it," her comment confused him a bit.

"Donate? What does that mean?"

"There's organizations that take long cut hair and make them into wigs for people that have lost theirs due to chemo, or some other reason. I told her that if I ever did cut it, she'd be the one to do it," Star told him.

"I've never heard of something like that. Back years ago, women would sell their long hair to make wigs, not donate it."

"Times change," she told him bumping his shoulder. They walked about half a block before Star suddenly stopped and turned to him. "Growing up, it was in the 20's and 30's."

"Yeah," he answered.

"When the fashionable thing to do was have long hair cut into a short bob or close curl."

Thinking about that for a moment, he realized that most dames did have the shorter curly style. He had liked the style but it seemed that every dame just had a similar look to her, nothing unique.

"They did," he said pulling her braid to the front where he could see it. "Are you thinking that I liked your hair long because I was not used to seeing hair that way, even if I didn't remember?"

"That's exactly what I'm wondering," she told him as they started to walk away.

They eventually made it back home with a load of groceries of food items that Star would be cooking for the next few days of meals. Not just simple items, but hearty meat and potato dishes similar to what they ate at the cabin. After putting everything away, he found his large shirt and helped her change back into it with a lot of distracting acts.

Before he took his touches too far, he talked with Star again about what had happened this morning. He finally made her agree that if he ever touched her or did anything that she did not like that she would instantly let him know so that he could stop. She easily agreed, calming his worry about ever hurting her again.

Bucky did notice how he didn't always get that overly possessive need to dominate Star. That it only came over him every so often. Star even pointed out that making her have three orgasms in a row was not a bad thing. He had laughed and told her that maybe he needed to try for four.

The rest of the afternoon they sat on the couch watching a movie, ate popcorn, refused Steve's request for an afternoon run, and tested the guest room's bed for sturdiness. By the time dinner came around, both of them were wearing permanent smiles on their faces.

* * *

" _Are the two of you going to hold up in the house every weekend_?" Steve's voice came over the speaker of the phone.

"Yes, right now, that _is_ the plan," she answered with a snicker as Bucky made them coffee Sunday morning.

" _Fine, but I expect both of you on Tuesday morning for our run_ ," Steve then said, catching both of theirs attention.

"Tuesday? Why not tomorrow?" Bucky asked sounding curious.

" _Nat, Sam, and I are heading out in the morning to check on a Hydra base from a file_ ," he explained.

"What base?" Bucky asked now sounding very serious.

" _Up in Nova Scotia, somewhere near Dartmouth_."

"Connected to the waste treatment plant out near Otter Lake," Bucky said as a statement more than a question.

" _Yes, Nat mentioned the plant. Have you been there_?"

"That was the base where I would sometimes meet up with teams heading to missions in North America. It was more of a storage facility underground for weapons and supplies, a stocked rendezvous point," he explained while looking right at her. She knew what was about to come by the look on his face.

"You want to go, don't you?" she asked for both her and Steve.

"Yeah. I know the place, and what to expect."

" _Bucky, if you think that you are up to this, it would be great having you along_ ," Steve told him.

"How dangerous would this be?" Star asked.

" _We are not expecting any large number to be there. Between missions, how many would be there_?" Steve asked.

"Maybe five, if that. They would keep the place ready for the teams that passed through."

" _Then we really should have no problems taking the place_ ," Steve said sounding a bit more sure of himself. " _I'll call Nat and Sam to let them know that you are coming with us. Meet at seven a.m. at the Triskelion_."

"Steve, I'm not so sure about that, going there…" he started before Steve interrupted him.

" _Buck, trust me. It will be fine_."

"If he doesn't come home…" she started…

" _You'll shoot me, I know_ ," Steve finished with a chuckle.

"I'm guessing that a normal threat?" Bucky was smiling at her to which she nodded.

"I'll drop him off in the morning," she told Steve. They made their goodbyes and hung up.

"Are you really fine with going on this mission?" she was worried and needed to hear it aloud.

"Yeah. I've been to that base a few times. A lot of corridors and storage rooms, but only a handful of Hydra guys to man it. I could take the place by myself if I wanted."

"That's not what I mean," she pointed out to him, but she liked his confidence. "You'll be going back to somewhere _they_ made you go. It might bring back some bad memories."

Walking around the island, he wrapped his arms around her as she sat on the stool.

"Even if it does, I have a good memory to come home to."

"And you better come home, otherwise…"

"You'll shoot Steve, I got it," he grinned at her giving her a needy kiss.

Minutes later, they were back upstairs, already making the best of the day as their breakfast resting on the serving tray next to the bed grew cold.


	59. Bucky Gets A Surprise...And So Does Star

**Song: _My Hero_ by Foo Fighters  
**

* * *

Pulling up a the Triskelion, Star was impressed with how fast the repairs on the building were going. She knew that it was going to be a few more months before the large Helicarrier was finished being hauled away in large chunks but the building's exterior showed no sign of damage. She wondered if the interior was still being worked on. Four months was not a lot of time to do everything that needed to be done…especially with government contractors.

"I don't like this," Scary mumbled from the passenger seat. He was wearing a simple black long sleeve shirt with dark jeans and boots. He didn't look ready to go into any type of fight dressed the way he was, but he no longer had any of his previous uniform. He had lost all of it months ago when he went into hiding.

"We'll just have to trust Steve," she said pulling up at the guard shack at the end of the bridge.

Rolling down her window, the guard asked, "State your business."

"Lucy Trencher for Captain Steve Rogers," she stated as he looked across at Scary, so she added, "plus one."

Scary looked nothing like he did the last time he was here. The guard stepped back into the shack, picking up a phone to probably confirm their arrival. Moments later, he came back out as the gate lifted.

"Both of you are expected. Captain Rogers will meet you inside the garage. Straight in, turn right, you can't miss him."

"Thanks," she said pulling away and heading over the bridge.

"I'm walking right into their hands," Scary mumbled.

"Technically, you'd be _riding_ into their hands," she said, earning her a scowl. "Besides, Steve would never turn you over. And I would never let them take you."

"That doesn't mean that they won't try."

"And I always thought that _I_ was the paranoid one," she said coming to a stop next to where Steve was standing.

He was dressed in his uniform with his shield on his back. The only thing missing was the helmet. Since meeting him, this was the first time she had seen him looking anything like the pictures she had grown up with. She had the urge to take a picture and send it to her brother David to tease him a bit. He would go crazy if he knew she was friends with Steve. But she had not mentioned it on her trip, still used to keeping her life a secret. She'd let David know later on.

"Care to explain how me being here is a _good_ thing?" Scary asked stepping out and scanning for hidden threats. She followed him so that she was latched onto his left arm, just on the safe side.

"You'll just have to trust me," Steve said with a knowing smile. She figured he had to have something up his sleeve.

"At least tell me that you have something better for him to wear today?" she asked, pointing out the civilian clothes.

"I have a spare uniform covered in cute little stars, waiting for you," Steve grinned, while Scary groaned.

"That's it. We're heading home," Scary turned and acted like he wanted to get back into the car, but she could see a genuine smile on his face.

"What? Not menacing enough for you?" Steve asked.

"I've seen ballet dancer in pink tights look more menacing than you do in one of your uniforms," Scary joked with him as Steve hit the button on the elevator.

That was when her burner phone started to chime. Grabbing it from her pocket, she flipped it open to see a message from Alan.

 **Alan** : _Need to meet evidence drop location A_  
**Lucy** : _1hr_

"What's going on?" she heard Scary ask as she put the phone away after texting back.

"That was my contact. He has evidence for the case that he needs picked up and taken in. He can't hand deliver it since he's undercover so we're meeting at a preset drop location."

"You have to go meet him?" Scary asked as Steve held the door open while they talked.

"Yes. I've had to do this before. Since I have to make it across town in morning traffic, I'm going to head on," she said giving him a kiss."You better come home to me."

Turning to Steve, she stated, "And you better bring him home in one piece."

"Yes, Ma'am," Steve gave her a small salute.

"Don't call me ma'am, grandpa," she smiled giving Steve a hug as he chuckled before Scary got a second final goodbye kiss.

Getting into her car, she watched as the two of them stood in the elevator for a few moments before the door closed. Starting the car, she really hoped that Steve knew what he was doing by having Scary come here today. Since agreeing to this yesterday, she had been able to keep her worry in check, but seeing those doors close him in and take him from her, Star felt her stomach churn.

Hopefully by the time she met up with Alan it will have gone away.

* * *

As the elevator rose, Bucky looked out over the ruined landscape while barely being able to contain his fear. He'd been on edge since waking up this morning about today, and now he was worried about Star having to go and meet this contact of hers, doubling his anxiety.

"Nat and Sam are already here, but there's someone we have to meet first," Steve told him as the elevator stopped near the top floors.

"Who?" he asked as they stepped out into the hallway.

"The boss," Steve simply told him, making his curiosity grow. He had no idea who had taken over the legitimate S.H.I.E.L.D. once Alexander Pierce had died.

Opening up the office door, Steve stepped inside while holding it open for him to do the same. When he did, Bucky stopped in his tracks at who was standing before him.

"How the hell…" was all he could manage to get out at seeing Nick Fury standing at the large window looking at them.

"I guess introductions are not needed," Steve joked, getting both of them to look at him.

"I don't think that being shot in the chest officially counts as meeting so maybe they are," Nick said taking a couple of hesitant steps toward them, and still stopping at a safe distance.

"Steve," he grumbled, taking a backwards step towards the door. If Fury was still alive, there was no telling what kind of hell he was going to unleash on him for what he had done for Hydra.

"Bucky, it's fine," Steve told him, placing his hand on his shoulder to stop him from leaving. "Nick, could you please tell him that he's not about to be arrested?"

"If I was going to have you arrested, I would have done it close to a week ago when I was informed that you had returned," Fury said standing strait and glaring right at him.

Turning to Steve, he narrowed his eyes and poked a finger hard in his chest, "We are going to have a _serious_ talk about how you introduce me to people."

Steve only grinned, getting some sort of sick glee out of his anxiety as he shut the door so the three of them could talk in private.

"I'll just consider Sam, Lucy, and Nick payback in full for the Helicarrier," Steve said pushing him forward gently by the shoulder towards the chairs near where Fury was standing.

"Not funny," he stated but allowed himself to be led.

"Now I have to ask, how did he introduce Natasha?" Fury asked.

"She felt that breaking into the apartment while we were sleeping was appropriate," Bucky told him as the three of them sat down.

"That does sound like her. I'm surprised that she didn't end up a little worse for wear," Fury said.

"She made it all the way to Steve's room without me noticing," Bucky admitted. "I heard them talking and woke up. I knew that if Steve was in trouble he would have called out."

"She's the best, that's why she works for me," Fury had a glimmer of a smile. "How have you been doing the past few weeks with Steve?"

"I'm starting to adjust," he was still feeling uncomfortable about this. He did notice how Fury worded his question, making him wonder if he knew about Star.

"But?" Fury then asked, knowing there was more.

"I'm still waiting for Hydra to find me and the nightmare to start again," he decided to admit.

"So far everything has been fine," Steve chimed in.

"And hopefully it will continue to stay that way. What does remain of Hydra is pretty broken and on the run still," Fury told him which made him feel a bit better hearing it from someone who might actually know the most about them. "Anything that you need help with, I'll make sure that you get it. I know that you've been working with Sam, but if you need more, just ask. S.H.I.E.L.D. will help set you up just like we did Steve when he was thawed…an identity, a bank account, a place of your own…"

Fury must have seen the look that he got at wondering what S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about Star. From how Fury was talking, maybe they didn't know anything…and he kind of liked that. But they would eventually have to know if he was going to live with and protect her.

"Am I missing something?" Fury was looking between the two of them waiting for an answer.

Steve just tilted his head and lifted his shoulders, indicating that it was up to Bucky as to what he wanted to tell Fury.

"What do you know about Lucy?" Bucky decided to ask, wondering what Sam and Nat might have told him.

"Lucy?" Fury sounded genuinely unaware. "You mentioned that name a few moments ago."

"She's someone from my past," he decided to tell him only the relevant parts. "A few years ago, she was kidnapped and I helped her to escape Russia and get back to America while on a mission there. She came to Steve a few weeks after everything happened and introduced herself. For the past few days, I've been staying at her place."

Fury's expression was turning from curiousness to amused at hearing that.

"Four months of freedom and you already have a girlfriend," he said before turning to Steve, "and yet it has been three years and you…"

"What is it with everyone and my sex life?" Steve asked throwing his hands up.

"What sex life…" Bucky mumbled just loud enough for them to hear, getting a laugh from the man he had thought he had killed, and a harsh glare from his best friend. A few moments later, he looked at Fury and asked, "Why would you do any of that for me, especially with what I did to you?"

Fury leaned back in the chair, giving him a hard look.

"I've had Natasha looking into your history for me, keeping the circle close. I know a lot about what went on and what happened to you. As far as I am concerned right now, you have been a prisoner of war for seventy years. Once you were able to get free of Hydra's influence, you stopped all activity they used you for, showing that it was them and not really you. But I'm not a benevolent philanthropist …I would expect something in return."

Here it is, Bucky thought, the other shoe.

"I would like for you to consider working with S.H.I.E.L.D., in particular, Steve."

"What does S.H.I.E.L.D. need with an assassin?" he was starting to get angry as his mind raced with different scenarios. "You're no better than Hydra."

"Bucky, calm down. That's not what Fury meant at all," Steve told him sitting forward in his seat a bit.

"You may have been trained as an assassin for decades, but it's your overall skill-set that we would like to put to use. Just like with today's mission."

Hearing that he calmed down just a bit. Fury was right. He did not want to go on this mission because it required him to kill, he was going to protect his best friend and new friends.

"If you can guarantee me that you will never ask me to do what Hydra made me do, then I will at least consider working for S.H.I.E.L.D., but _only_ _with_ Steve."

"That is more than what I was expecting to receive as an answer today," Fury nodded at him. "See how today goes, and then get back to me. Steve can set up our next meeting, without it being a shock."

"I guess since I'm already here that I should apologize for blowing your car up and shooting you three times," he waited to be berated for those actions but it never came.

"When you think about it, I had to fake my own death to get you off of my back. I've _never_ had to do that before. But after doing so, I used that time to take care of a few headaches since they never saw me coming. So I'll accept your apology with the understanding that you make sure it never happens again."

A few minutes later, they were heading for the mission prep room where Nat and Sam were waiting for them. Leaving Fury's office, he did feel a bit better with the overall outcome of their chat.

"How are you doing?" Steve asked as the elevator took them down.

"At least I walked out of there a free man, unlike what I expected going in thanks to _someone_ not telling me Fury was still alive."

"Hey, I have to get my kicks where I can take them."

"Punk."

Arriving at the room, he looked at the storage lockers noticing that most of them were empty. Bucky knew that he was part of the reason for that. Some of the empty ones may have belonged to Hydra agents but he had taken out a lot of good S.H.I.E.L.D. agents trying to get to Steve that day.

"Is there anything in particular that you would feel comfortable using today?" Nat asked him as he stood looking into the weapons locker.

"I'll find a few things to take," he said turning back to Steve. "But I do need something better to wear than this."

"I'm not sure if _this_ is what you mean," Steve said leading him over to a closed locker already with the initials JBB on the door. Opening it up, he found a complete set of his Winter Solider uniform inside, his face mask staring back at him. Picking it up, he stared at it for a long time as he was flooded with a lot of memories of prepping for Hydra missions…including Stars.

"Buck, are you alright?" Steve asked from behind him.

Placing the mask back down, he closed the locker while shaking his head.

"No. That's not what I want to be. Is there anything else I can use?"

Sam got his attention by walking towards another door, saying, "Come in here."

Bucky followed him into the next room, seeing it was the storage locker for the TAC teams. Inside were standard vest, cargo pants, military boots, and all the accessories that he could use.

"Yeah, this is better," he said with a small smile as he started to select some new items.

* * *

Star was stuck in traffic still trying to get to the old lumber supply yard where she was to meet Alan.

Picking up her phone, she texted Sherry to let her know what was going on and that thanks to the traffic she would probably be running late getting to the office this morning.

Sherry replied that there was no hurry and the paperwork from last week's raid was still sitting on her desk waiting, earning a grumble over the sound of the radio.

* * *

"Where did my old equipment come from?" Bucky asked as they were waiting for the Quinjet to finish prepping so they could head out.

Steve was not sure, so he looked over at Nat for the answer.

"After the fight on the street, the S.H.I.E.L.D. cleanup crew found your mask and brought it back. At the Vault, there was a complete uniform in case you needed it. They were put into storage months ago. Since we were unsure of what you would want, we wanted to give you the chance to decide," Natasha told him.

"I'm guessing there are a lot of bad memories associated with it," Sam prodded, trying to get him to open up a bit.

"You could _definitely_ say that," Bucky gave one of his sly grins, but Steve noticed that he did not actually look angry at seeing it or talking about it. "Steve, can I borrow your phone?"

Steve smiled as he pulled it out, knowing there was only one reason for him to ask for it.

"Going to let Star know that you're not in a cell somewhere?"

"Exactly. I could tell that she was worried, even though she kept saying to trust you."

Bucky typed out his message and waited for a few moments, but he didn't get an immediate response. Glancing at his watch, Steve saw the time.

"It's about the time that she was supposed to meet her contact. She'll probably get back to you after," he told his friend who was now wearing a scowl at not getting an immediate response.

"Your probably right," Bucky said handing the phone back to him. "But keep checking while you get a signal."

"Yes, Sergeant," Steve gave him a small salute, earning a groan from him.

A few short minutes later, they were all loaded inside the Quinjet with their gear stowed, taking off toward Nova Scotia.

* * *

**A Few Minutes Earlier**

Star pulled into the large drive-through metal building. It was designed to store lumber under the large metal roof and walls to prevent rain from getting to the wood. Trucks could then pull in, load up an order, then drive out the other end.

But thanks to the economy dropping a few years back, the company had to close down with the housing market problems. All the lumber was gone, leaving the building to contain nothing but empty shelves.

In the middle of the long drive, there was a familiar car already waiting. As she got closer, Star could make out the shape of someone sitting in the driver's seat, Alan. The overall building was dark but with just enough light from the far end of the building's exit door silhouetting him.

Coming to a stop a short distance away, she turned off her car, waiting for Alan to open his door. But as the seconds got to be too long, Star began to get an uneasy feeling.

Looking around, there was nothing out of place, and there was no sign of anyone else. Taking out the burner phone, she dial his and waited as it rang. From the top of the dash where she could see it, Star noticed the glow of his burner phone lighting up, but Alan made no move to answer it.

"Aww, fuck, Alan. Don't do this," she mumbled when the phone went to the generic voice mail. Folding it closed, she glanced around a bit better. Still nothing that worried her.

Star had to know.

Placing both of her phones on the passenger seat, she pulled her gun from its holster, took a calming deep breath, and slowly opened her door.

Stepping out, she paused to listen for any type of noise that should not be in the abandoned building. There was nothing at all. Slowly she made her way towards Alan's car, glancing around cautiously.

She walked the twenty steps and found herself staring at the corpse behind the wheel.

Alan's face was not recognizable thanks to the severe beating he had taken, as well as the numerous cut marks. His arms were bruised and bloodied while his hands were zip-tied to the steering wheel. That was when she noticed another zip-tie around his neck securing him upright by using the headrest's legs. Otherwise, he would have been slumped over thanks to the bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Glancing around, Star was not even able to get herself facing her own car before the sound of screeching tires came at her from both entrances. Two SUV's were closing in on her fast as she made a run for her vehicle.

Reaching the door, she turned the car on and threw it into drive, slamming her foot down hard onto the gas, the sudden momentum of the vehicle closing the door for her.

Bullets began to rain around her as she tried to head for the exit. Ducking her head, she could barely see over the dash, heading for the light of the outside. Pings on the driver side door, as well as its glass fragmenting, told her that she was passing the one ahead of her.

Lifting her arm, seeing the taller SUV passing by, she fired her gun while trying to protect her head. She was sure that some of her shots struck the vehicle.

The back window was now shattering, giving her the other's location. She knew that she had to get out of this building and onto the streets where she could lose them. That was when more shots sounded and her steering became a struggle. They must have taken out one of the front tires. There was no chance of getting far now.

Dropping her gun in her lap, she reached over for her real phone. Star managed to activate the screen, hoping to call Sherry to let her know what was happening. She pressed down on the speed-dial button, needing to then hit send...

But a jarring shudder went through the car, knocking the phone from her hand and onto the floorboard. One of the vehicles had rammed her, forcing her car away from the direction of the exit. The bullets had stopped so she risked lifting her head a bit so that she could see to readjust her course back towards the opening.

That was when the other vehicle impacted her from the other side. Star's body jolted to the front left and her head bounced off of the metal frame holding the windshield in place. The two vehicles working together forced her car forward and to the side, aiming it directly at one of the sturdy metal roof support beams. She slammed on the brakes but the car was being pushed forward by the stronger vehicle behind her.

Seconds later, her airbag deployed with the sudden impact that crushed the dashboard towards her.

Star felt her dizzy body growing heavy as she reached for the gun that had been in her lap, but it was no longer there. The sound of scraping metal assaulted her ears as she realized the driver's door was being pried open.

As she turned her head to see who was coming after her, all Star could make out was the fist that knocked her unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how they are both waiting for that other shoe to drop? The next few chapters will be very dramatic and emotional so prepare yourselves. I would love to hear what you think so please review!


	60. Sherry At The Scene Of The Crime

**Song: _Lifeline_ by Thousand Foot Krutch**

* * *

After landing on the road leading up to the back area of the waste treatment plant, they exited the Quinjet and began moving in. They had surveilled the location for a while and didn't find any outside activity. Entering the small building's door, Bucky led the way down the secondary staircase that eventually ended at the security door accessing the underground bunker.

"Nat," Steve whispered, "can you get us in?"

"No need," he answered as he began to punch in a code. Seconds later, the door popped open. "I have a personal access code for most bases in case a mission went bad and I needed to follow protocol and return to the closest one."

"Handy," Natasha told him with a sly smile.

They carefully made their way inside. Over the next few minutes, they found the entire complex to be abandoned. Not a single person was anywhere to be found. The computers had been smashed with the hard drives taken out and destroyed. There was a thin coating of dust over everything still there. Weapons were still in the lockers, ammo was waiting to be used, and the small kitchen area had rotten food left in the fridge. Whoever had been here had not cared too much with what they left behind.

"I'll call it in and tell the cleanup crew that they need to pack up what is left," Nat said heading back upstairs to get a better signal.

"Bucky, anything special about this place that we need to check out?" Steve asked him.

"No, it was pretty standard. But let's finish the sweep to make sure we didn't miss anything," he said as Sam put the broken hard drive back onto the desk.

"We've found a few spots just like this," Sam told him as they headed further down the corridor.

"It's good that this base is abandoned," he said as they cleared rooms. "Like I said, this was a way-point for missions all over North America. A place to stock up on weapons and ammo, refuel, eat, or get a bit of shuteye before moving out. Seeing that it has not been used in a while makes me think that the three of you have been doing your jobs."

"Did you have any doubt?" Steve asked him.

"Well, you were pretty useless for a while there, Dancing Monkey," he grinned over his shoulder.

"Alright, that's _twice_ now," Sam firmly stated, "I want...no, I _need_ to hear the story behind that name!"

* * *

Well into the drive, Star had finally regained consciousness only to find herself secured in the back of a SUV with a guard aiming a gun at her from the back seat. There were zip-ties securing her wrists in front of her with more at her ankles. The entirety of her mouth and lower face was covered, probably with duct-tape if they followed their MO. The side of her head hurt so she reached up and her hand came away with partially dried blood on it. Strands of her hair seemed to have come loose from the braid that was no longer in a bun.

The windows only showed trees passing by them so she knew they were no longer in D.C. Thinking back to Alan, she unfortunately knew where they were taking her. Moving to try and sit up…

"May as well lay and enjoy the trip," the man had a heavy Irish accent. "It'll be the last time you are ever comfortable."

Minutes later, they vehicle made a hard turn, pushing her against the side thanks to the speed. Stopping, the others got out and came to the back gate while her guard waited for them. They roughly drug her out and to her feet, forcibly carrying her upright towards the large house as she fought them every step of the way. Looking over her shoulder there was nothing but trees surrounding the property. She began to struggle even more though it would be useless with the zip-ties around her wrists and ankles but she had to try something. All it earned her was a punch to her stomach for the effort.

Standing her in the foyer, Star looked around the house they had never managed to get an interior shot of. It was old, lots of dark wood and antique furniture with decorations everywhere. There was a large staircase carpeted in green before her and she saw a lone figure standing at the top looking down at her. She had seen pictures of him through the years as he had aged, but this was the first time since 1978 that she had personally seen Fintan O'Connell. She noticed that his eyes seemed to narrow while looking at her. Had he just recognized a ghost?

"I see our new temporary guest has arrived," a jovial voice pried her eyes from him as two large doors off to her side opened to reveal the office of Cormac, Fintan's only son. "Tommy's been a bit bored waiting for you to get here. Your friend left him a bit eager to continue his fun."

Since the guys were holding her upper arms so tight, she lifted her legs and tried to kick at him.

"So feisty," Cormac laughed at her. "Ah, but that is Tommy's specialty. He knows how to make even the toughest cunts talk. Take her to the workroom."

Star tried kicking at him again, but he only laughed as the two began to drag her through a hallway. Opening a door in the kitchen, she was forced down the set of simple stairs to the basement where her team's research told them the torture room was set up. As far as she knew, _nobody_ who had ever set foot in there ever came back out alive.

The large metal door was already open and inside she saw the man only known as Tommy standing looking bored. He had been brought over from Ireland years ago when Cormac had taken over for his father to work as the family's new enforcer. She had seen numerous bodies, the ones they wanted found, and knew exactly what he was capable of...just like Alan.

Dragging her into the middle of the room, Star couldn't pry her eyes from Tommy. He stood there with a gleaming darkness in his eyes that she hadn't seen since Kozlov. Without his shirt on, his skin revealed the numerous tattoos covering him: scattered green shamrocks, Celtic knots on his biceps, a rosary around his wrist, and a colorful skeletal leprechaun centered on his chest.

Without a word, Tommy came over and pulled at the front of her blouse, ripping it open. One of the guys then moved to stand behind her with a knife pressed hard to her throat as Tommy removed the zip-ties on her wrists and then her shirt, leaving only her bra on. He then dumped the clothing article into a waiting metal 55-gallon drum...another item she knew the use for. They never figured out where they eventually ended up with the missing person inside.

A set of handcuffs was then secured tightly around her wrists, allowing the man to put his knife away so he only held her in place. Pulling down on a chain above her, he snapped the cuffs to it with a twist-gate carabiner before Tommy took the other end of the chain in his hand. The device would require a bit more effort and time to get out of than a normal carabiner, but Star knew that she would try if she got the chance. Stepping towards a hook on the wall, he began to lift her arms over her head using the pulley above her. Satisfied once her feet were barely on the ground, he linked the chain to the hook to hold her in place.

"She's a kicker, so watch out for ya' bollocks," one of the men laughed as they walked out, closing the metal door behind them.

Tommy then glanced at her, seeming to examine her bare arms before he moved over to one of the tables with numerous items spread on it. Grabbing another set of cuffs with a small bit of chain between, he stomped down hard onto her foot to keep them in place as he secured her ankles better. Star tried screaming out thanks to the fact that he had chosen her foot with the old broken toes to do the move on. The duct tape muffled the noise dramatically.

One end of the cuffs went tight around her ankle. A metal ring was mounted in the concrete floor so he ran the still open cuff through it. Snapping it around her other ankle they would keep her legs down. She was stretched long with no way to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. He didn't even bother to remove the other zip-tie from around her ankles.

Coming back over, Tommy bent down and began to remove her shoes making her recall the plentiful number of bodies with toes and fingers permanently gone. Tossing them into the drum, he now seemed to examine her foot, looking up at her with curiosity. Standing up, he took another better look at her arms. With how she was held, the backsides of them were visible. She knew exactly what he had spotted…her previously broken toes along with the cigar and cigarette burns to her arms that Kozlov had done years ago.

Tommy then began a detailed inspection of her body, his fingers tracing over the line on her stomach, the burns on her arms, and up to the cut marks on her hands. Thanks to her kicking and struggling earlier, her hair had managed to come entirely free of its braid. And when he walked behind her, sweeping away her loose flowing hair to get a good look at her back, it was the first time he spoke.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," he mumbled in heavy Irish tones.

Coming back around, she saw that he was staring at her with a hard curiosity. This was what he did for a living. He knew exactly what he was looking at when it came to her scars. Wondering how he would react, she tapped her foot on the cold concrete to get his attention to it, lifting and turning it when he did. Tommy bent down and saw the scars located there. Checking her other foot, he saw they matched.

"What the bloody hell…" he partially asked staring at her before turning away and walking out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Star didn't know what to make of it but she probably only had a few minutes to act before Tommy returned.

* * *

The knock on his office door was unexpected. Cormac called out for whomever it was to enter and was a bit surprised when Tommy came in.

"You got the cunt to talk that fast? That _has_ to be a record," Cormac laughed out as he looked for a paper file.

"There's something not right with her," Tommy stated.

"What the fecking hell does that mean?" he asked stopping his search.

"I would say that she's already been a round in my room except for the fact that she's still breathing," Tommy said making him curious. "I would like for you to see before I started. So that you know."

Cormac sighed, a bit irritated that he was being asked to stop working but Tommy had never made a request like this in all the years he'd worked for him. As they were leaving the office, he saw his Da coming down the stairs with his blackthorn shillelagh walking stick. He's had to use it since taking the bullet to his hip, which was the reason he turned the family business over to him. Seeing him with Tommy this soon after a prisoner was brought in, his Da knew that something was up.

"Where the two 'o you headed?" he asked coming towards them.

"Tommy wants me to look at the cunt."

"What for?" he was now following them.

"Not exactly sure," he told him as the three of them now headed down the stairs.

Reaching the room, they found the F.B.I. agent that had been causing them so much trouble for the past few years lying stretching on the floor with her shirt and shoes missing. She had managed to free her wrists from the upper chain but she was still secured to the middle of the workroom floor, far away from reaching anything she could use to escape, but she was damn sure trying. Tommy made sure to have all of his work benches about a foot out of reach in case someone got free. He'd told Cormac that it amused him to see the hopelessness come over a his guests at not being able to reach anything.

Cormac loved the look of fear in her eyes when she spotted them entering the torture room, understanding Tommy's comment now.

With his own twisted grin, Tommy stepped forward to roughly grabbed her by her long hair, lifting her up before re-securing her so that she was once again strung up. He stepped aside for him and his Da to get close and Tommy grabbed a hold of her arm. Stepping near, Cormac saw small round scars running the length of them.

"So?" he asked as his Da looked at her, more interested in her partially duct tape covered face.

"Then there's this," Tommy said turning her fully around.

He had never seen such long hair before as it was not a popular style. Using his hand, Tommy tried moving the stuff out of the way, but he didn't see whatever it was that he was supposed to.

"I can't see anything through all 'o that damn stuff," he huffed out.

Tommy then walked over to his table and grabbed one of his longer knives. Holding it between his teeth, he used both hands to gather the long loose hair to form a ponytail. Satisfied, he held the hair with one hand and took the knife in the other. The female must have known what was coming as she started to struggle but she couldn't stop Tommy from his move.

Making a firm single slice, he cut away the long bulky mess and tossed it to the floor like the trash it was. With her hair now barely touching her shoulders, he and his Da were able to see the deep, massive scars that covered the entirety of her backside.

"Holy mother," Cormac found himself involuntarily saying as they examined her. He could hear her crying as his hands ran over the rough surface of her skin.

"There's more," Tommy said after a minute. "Not only are the bottoms of her feet the same, with long broken toes, there's scars on her hands."

"So, she was in a car accident or something," he commented as his Da stated walking around her, his shillelagh tapping on the cold concrete floor.

"Na, this was _no_ accident," Tommy firmly stated. Pointing at each of the different looking scars, he indicated them as, "A small wooden rod, a whip, cat-o-nine-tails, knife cuts, a piece of barb wire."

Cormac looked over at him no believing what he was hearing, asking, "You're sure about this?"

"It's me job, Boss. Besides, her palms 'ave initials carved into them."

"Initials?" Da asked him sounding curious.

"Yeah, YK. Looks to 'ave been done a very long time ago."

"There's no bloody way," Da then said walking around to her front side. Using the knot on the tip of his shillelagh, he held it under her chin, examining her tear soaked face. "Remove the tape."

Tommy did as he was told, ripping the mass of stuff away painfully.

"Whose initials are those?" Da asked her, but she only spit in his face. Da used his stick and struck her across the side of the head. Screaming at her, he asked again, "Whose initials!?"

"Figure it out you piece of shit…" Cormac heard her say before she began speaking in Russian. He had never seen his Da grimace as he was doing now.

With a final blow to her cheekbone with his shillelagh, his Da turned and walked out.

"Start working on her," he instructed Tommy curious as to what he had just witnessed.

"I just wanted 'ya to see since it might take a bit longer," Tommy told him heading for the table. "No only will I need to get through the scars first, but having gone through all of that," he jerked his thumb at her back, "she may be a bit more resistant or may even cave a lot easier. Won't know till I start having me fun."

"Whatever you need to do is fine with me," he told him as Tommy gave him a nod in understanding.

Shutting the door behind him, he headed up stairs and found his Da walking into his office, heading for the wall safe where their ledgers of more personal clients had been kept for decades. His Da had always taught him that paper journals couldn't be hacked. Opening it up, his Da fumbled around looking for something before pulling out one of the older books, even older than him. He was now flipping through it.

"What are 'ya looking for, Da?"

"Years ago, I had a repeat customer. When he wanted a new pet, as he called them, he _always_ came to me. He liked young teenage American girls. He was a Russian named Yury Kozlov, YK. He was known to be brutal with his pets before permanently disposing of them. He had already contacted me about purchasing a new one once he arrived in America to live, but he never showed. Weeks later, I heard that he'd been taken out and replaced," Da explained. Jamming his finger at a line, he asked, "What is her name?"

"Lucinda Trencher. She works for the F.B.I."

"Not in 1978 she didn't," Da said turning the book around to reveal her name written in his father's familiar handwriting.

"Are 'ya fecking shitting me, Da?" he rhetorically asked, taking the book as if it being closer would make the name change. But there it was, her name. "How the feck did she end up working for the damn Feds if you sold her back then?"

"I don' know, but that's her."

Looking up at his Da, he had to ask, "Does this change anything?"

His father seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Na. Have Tommy question her as to what happened to Yury. He was always a good customer and I've wondered for years how he got taken out. Other than that, get everything out of her to get the Feds off our fecking backs."

His Da took the book from his hands and shoved it back into the safe, slamming it shut.

* * *

Moving her head back and forth as Tommy stood by the table to work, Star couldn't help but be overwhelmed with emotion. Not at the torture he'd done so far, but for the loss of her hair. Her head kept feeling like it wanted to fall forward without the extra weight she was so used to holding up. The shorter strands were tickling her bare shoulders, making her think of spider webs touching her. But Star didn't think that she would be alive long enough to deal with or get used to the shorter length.

As punishment for freeing her arms earlier, Tommy took a wooden bat-like item he called a hurley from hanging on the wall. He explained that hurling was his favorite sport moments before he struck her trapped left forearm, making sure to break both bones. Placing it back on the wall, he informed her that if she so much as touched the carabiner again that her other arm would suffer the same fate. Right now her good arm was the only thing she was being held up by, putting a lot of cutting pressure on her skin where the cuff rested on her wrist bone to ease the pain from her left arm.

For spitting on the bossman's Da, she could barely see due to the swelling on her face from the punches Tommy had given her. It may have been a lifetime ago, but she'd dealt with worse than everything that Tommy had so far dished out. If anything, she could give him pointers. Maybe he was going lite on her now that he knew she had seen worse. She heard him say that he figured she might would give in a lot easier. Fat chance.

The only thing that she had even bothered to answer were the questions concerning Kozlov's death. Fintan had been curious as to what had happened to his client and she didn't see any reason to not tell him. Of course, she held back giving the real account, sticking to the same story she'd told for years about running as the assassin did his work. She figured it would also buy her some time before the real questions started. The ones about what her team had managed to gather on them. She wondered how long she could hold out. Alan had only lasted three days, from what she heard. But she knew that delaying would not really do her any good. They'd never been able to get someone out of here once they had been taken. No proof meant no search warrant which meant no rescue.

But telling the story of Kozlov and thinking about Scary almost made her cry. He would eventually return home tonight, expecting her to be there waiting for him but instead he would find the house dark and empty. Any calls or text he would send would go unanswered. He would probably be sitting there worried about her for hours. Nobody would even know to tell him what had happened to her. Sherry only knew his first name, and she didn't even know that he was living with her. Not that it would help her. How long would he worry before calling Steve?

When they eventually found Alan and her car, Sherry would figure out what had happened but there would be nothing that she could do about it. They had left Alan's body only as a warning about snitching on them. But with her, they had decided to not leave any trace of her body that might be linked back to them. That was what the barrel she kept looking at was for. All of her clothing, san panties and bra, was already at the bottom of it...like trash. She knew of over a dozen bodies that had never turned up over the years. Hers would just be added to that list.

The worst part of being stripped bare had been when Tommy had yanked Scary's bracelet from her arm, breaking the clasp. Without any reason to care about the meaning behind it, he had just dropped it into the barrel, the trinket impacting with a metallic sound. It gave her a strange comfort to know that at least she would be buried with it. Maybe one day it would be used to identify her body for Scary.

But Star knew that Steve, Sam, and Nat would be able to protect and look out for him from this point on since she was not going to be there to. At least she had been able to see and be with him again for a short time, Star thought. It had been the best part of her life since coming back home.

This was the other shoe dropping.

Closing her eyes, her mind pictured him as it had been for so long...messy long hair, black darkened eyes, and his hard face mask that felt so nice as he pressed it against her cheek to growl in her ear. That would be who she thought of as she died. Someone comforting...not the grinning sick fucker behind her getting his equipment ready.

Hearing an electrical sound, she turned and managed to see that Tommy had finished hooking up the jumper cables to the car battery on the rolling cart. He was touching the tips together, letting them spark so that she could see. She had to admit, Kozlov never had used electricity on her. If it was physical torture he had been in the mood for, he liked to utilize items that used his own strength to inflict pain. At least Tommy didn't know about her fear of snakes.

"Any time ya want me to stop, just start talkin'," Tommy told her as he rolled the cart over.

Grabbing a knife, he cut apart her bra and threw it away too, leaving all of her torso exposed for his abuse.

Since he was already planning on hurting her more anyways, she told him, "Fuck you, ya demented leprechaun!"

Picking up the ends of cable, he told her with a nasty grin, "No thanks, you're a bit too old," as he rested them on her bare abdomen for a count of five, jerking her body backwards as she screamed in pain. When it finally stopped, he told her, "Just so ya know, after I get your body softened up, I'll be startin' to work on your back, which will take a bit o' time. So, really, it's up to you as to when this ends."

As her body spasmed from the next jolt, she wondered if Fintan could hear her screams.

* * *

Sherry was pacing back and forth as the crime scene technicians still continued to go over Lucy's and Alan's cars, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. It had been hours since she was supposed to have been at work. But even with the numerous calls and texts being sent to her phone, Lucy had never answered.

Knowing that Lucy was meeting with Alan for a drop, she decided to trace her phone, finding it still at the location. She knew then that something was wrong.

"I'm sorry, Sherry," Jack came over to her and shook his head. "I've checked three times and I can't figure out where the signal is coming from."

"How can that be?" she asked knowing that they were still receiving the tracing signal to Lucy's personal phone to this location. The burner phone had been found on the ground smashed to pieces next to Lucy's personal sidearm. "It's got to be here somewhere."

"I'm not sure…" he started as she decided to do this the old fashioned way.

Pulling out her own phone, Sherry hit speed dial for Lucy. After a few seconds, a familiar ring tone of _Sherry_ from The Four Seasons started to play from inside of the car. Stepping over to the open passenger door, Jack ducked down to look under the dash. Reaching up way underneath of the dash at a strange angle, his hand eventually came back out with Lucy's phone in his hand.

"It was wedged up between the car's frame and carpet. Must have slid there during the crash," he told her passing it over. Activating it as she looked down, she saw her name on the screen, but the call had not been placed.

"Damn it, she tried calling for help," she said turning the phone for him to see her name.

"Now what?" Jack asked looking over at Alan's body being loaded into the coroner's van to be taken for autopsy. Due to the numerous types of damage he had suffered, it would be a day or more before they got the results back. Sherry doubted they would find any evidence linking his death with any others, which meant no warrant. Tommy was too good.

And unfortunately, the O'Connells now had Lucy. Sherry knew exactly what that meant. She was never seeing her friend alive again.

"I need to get the team together and try and figure out what to do. We have no actually evidence linking the O'Connells to this so there is no way we are going to be able to get a warrant to search any of their businesses. We don't even know for sure _where_ they would have taken her," she admitted as her stomach dropped.

The only thing she knew was what their investigation had been slowly building over the past fifteen years but she had a damn good guess. O'Connell's family estate outside of Baltimore. It was held in a trust and that was the only article in it so the O'Connells were able to keep it looking clean. They would _never_ get a warrant to search it with no evidence _and_ all the crooked judges they had managed to buy.

Stepping away so that Jack could get back to work, she began to go through the call and text history on Lucy's phone hoping to find anything that might help. Seeing an unread text from someone named Steve around the same time she was supposed to have been meeting Alan, Sherry opened it.

 **Steve** : _All good here. See you tonight Doll. Scary_.

Sherry tried to make sense out of the strange message. Lucy had said that her new beau's name was James, yet here she was receiving a text from someone named Steve who signed it with the strange nickname of Scary. What had Lucy been up to? Or, was it possible that her new boyfriend had something to do with her disappearance? Was he actually a plant by the O'Connells to get to Lucy? Earn her trust, and then turn on her?

Even with that being a concern, Sherry remembered how happy Lucy had been for the past few days. If he was faking being her boyfriend for information, then he had to be one of the best damn actors ever since Lucy had so many trust issues. If he was legitimate, then he would be waiting to hear from someone who would never return.

Walking away from the working technicians towards the open warehouse entrance, Sherry took a calming breath before hitting dial for Steve's number. It rang for a few moments before she heard a strange clicking sound as a new ring tone began. For some reason, it had transferred the call over to a new secure phone system, similar to the one they used at the F.B.I.

" _Hey, Star_ ," she heard a happy masculine voice answer finally.

Now that she had contacted someone, Sherry was a bit unsure how to handle this. She hoped that this person was legit and didn't just hang up and disappear into the wind.

"Is this James?" she asked, to which she only received a very long pause.

" _Who is this_? _How did you get Lucy's phone_?" the same voice asked very firmly.

"My name is Special Agent Sherry Parker. I work with Lucy at the F.B.I. I'm trying to get in touch with James."

There was a very muffled sound of voices in the background talking while the phone was probably shoved against clothes to keep her from hearing clearly. After a few moments, a new male voice sounded.

" _This is James. Why do you have Lucy's phone!_?"

"I need for you to come in for questioning," she firmly informed him. Sherry knew she needed to figure out if he was involved in this.

" _What for? Where is Lucy? I want to speak to her, only her!_ " he requested in an angry tone.

Her guts told her that if he worked for O'Connell that he wouldn't sound that emotional. Maybe he was legit. Here was the moment of truth...

"Right now, she's missing and I need you to come in for questioning. I don't know who you are but I…"

" _What the hell do you mean she's missing!? Where is she!?_ " his tone was much stronger now, and there was a loud audible thump of something smashing.

"If I knew where she was, she wouldn't be missing, would she?" Sherry pointed out with probably too much disdain in her voice, but this was not a situation that she'd ever run across before. "Now, like I said, I need you to come in…"

There was a loud racket on the other end of the line, with a lot of incoherent yelling between two males, maybe three. After a few moments, the noises died down to a far background noise.

" _Please tell me your name_ ," a polite calm feminine voice requested.

"Special Agent Sherry Parker with the F.B.I. I work with Lucy and I _need_ to question James on _her disappearance_."

" _He had nothing to do with it_."

"As much as I would _like_ to believe that, I _still_ need to _question him_ ," she explained again.

" _Then be at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion in forty-five minutes. Come through the front visitor's gate, someone will meet you_ ," the female voice informed her before the line dropped off.

Staring at the phone in her hand, Sherry wondered why she had to go to that place. Who had Lucy become mixed up with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to Star's damaged backside, think of Jamie's healed scars from Outlander, if you've seen the show. If not, look him up and you'll get an idea. Yes, there is a reason that I mention this...but no spoilers.
> 
> FYI: Hurling - an ancient outdoor Irish field game where you use a wooden hurley stick to get the ball (called a sliotar) either through a goal post or into a net. Physical contact is allowed.


	61. The O'Connells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important Reader Message at the end of the story!

**Song: _24_ by Jem**

* * *

The flight back towards Washington was nerve racking for everyone.

Sam watched as Steve was trying his best to keep Bucky calm. He was totally under the impression that Hydra had come out of hiding and taken Lucy to get to him. Nothing they could say was swaying his mind on that. Nat was on a secured line with Fury giving him an explanation as to the few details that they _did_ know and that a visitor was coming who would be able to explain more. The interior's mood was so tense that even the agent pilot kept glancing back to make sure everyone was trying to stay calm.

Sam sat across the way from Bucky who looked utterly broken. The pilot had the Quinjet at full speed at Steve's request, but he knew that for Bucky it was going to seem like a lifetime. When the caller had first told him that Lucy was missing, Bucky had punched through a solid concrete wall with his left fist. Seeing that ability made him wonder how much worse off Steve could have been months ago after their fight. Had he really been holding back during that fight?

Hearing a panic in Steve's voice calling to get his attention, Sam turned his focus back to Bucky who was starting to hyperventilate. The stress had finally gotten to him. His arms went over his head, pulling at his hair with a bit of force. Standing up, he moved the short distance so that he was sitting next to him.

"Bucky, I need to you listen to me," Sam calmly spoke. "What you are feeling is called an anxiety attack. Your body is having a physical reaction to your stressed mental condition. You need to calm your breathing into a steady rhythm…in…out…in…out."

"Star's gone…my…fault," he managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath. His body was slightly starting to rock back and forth. All of his emotions that had been so repressed for the past seventy years were crashing down hard onto him all at once. And he was blaming himself for Lucy being missing.

"We don't know that," Sam told him. "But if you don't control this feeling now, it is only going to get worse. I want to you think of something easy, like counting or repeating the alphabet. Get your mind off of what's worrying you. Now I want you to also match my breathing...in...out..."

Bucky seemed to try for a few moments, but then he started to lose it again, probably going back to thinking about Lucy. He kept up repeating his instructions in a calm voice as Bucky tried to focus on him. When he saw that it was not going to work, he looked over at Steve for help. If anyone knew how to help him, it would be Steve.

"Buck listen, we are _all_ going to help get Star back, _whatever_ it takes," Steve told him taking Bucky's wrists into his and trying to forcefully make him release the hair he was about to pull from his scalp. "Do as Sam asks, it will help. Please Buck. Do it for Star. She needs you to be in control of yourself and here for her. Star is going to need you at your best to help bring her home so you can be together again."

With that, he noticed a change in Bucky's demeanor. His sharp breaths gradually began to grow deeper and longer. Steve managed to get his hands back into his lap where they continually fisted and stretched. It did take a few minutes, but everyone calmed once Bucky seemed to be back to an acceptable condition.

Glancing around the Quinjet, Sam noticed Natasha putting away one of her Widow Bites onto her armbands. She had been prepared to knock Bucky out if Sam or Steve hadn't been able to calm him back down. He could only imagine what would have happened if Bucky had become violent.

* * *

As the Quinjet set down, Sam was shocked to see Fury himself escorting a woman he guessed was Sherry towards them. She looked very professional but more than a bit curious as to who she was coming to meet. The look she gave at seeing Steve emerge in his full uniform told him that Fury had not prepared her at all...there was even a little smirk on his face.

" _You're_ Steve?" she asked as the four of them came down the ramp.

"Yes, Ma'am, Steve Rogers."

"Then who is James?" she asked not able to take her eyes from Captain America.

"I am," Bucky's voice still sounded off but he walked right up to the woman who finally turned to him. "What happened to Star?"

"Star?" she asked, not knowing the nickname.

"Lucy," Steve told her to which she nodded, guessing it was a playful name between her and Bucky.

"Can you tell us what happened to Lucy?" Steve asked.

"That's classified," Sherry told them but he could see that she wanted to say more.

"I can assure you," Fury stated, "that everyone here can have that clearance in a matter of minutes."

Hearing that seemed to make her feel a bit better.

"We are still trying to work out the details, but Lucy texted me that she was meeting a contact to pick up some kind of evidence. When she didn't show for work this morning, I traced her phone to the drop site. The undercover agent was found dead in his vehicle, and Lucy's car had been shot up and wrecked. There was only a trace amount of blood inside of the car, but she is missing. Her phone showed that she received a text from you," she looked at Steve, "around the time of the meeting."

Bucky somehow managed to listen to the explanation before storming off a few feet to pace and ingest the information. From her explanation, Lucy had already been missing for at least seven hours.

"Do you have any indication as to who did this and where she is now?" Natasha asked.

"Lucy and Alan have only been working on one case together, the O'Connell family."

"Alan?" Bucky asked turning back to the group. "That was the name in her burner phone."

"How do _you_ know that?" Sherry asked him a bit harshly.

"I looked through it while she was in the shower one morning," he told her, which got him a raised eyebrow.

"What _exactly_ is your relationship to Lucy?" she asked him point blank.

"I guess the term _you_ would use is boyfriend," Bucky told her, but Sam knew that really there was no word that explained their unique connection.

Sherry gave him a once over from head to toe and Sam could see a weak but honest smile, as if she were trying to remain professional but approved of Bucky.

"So you believe that this O'Connell family took Lucy and not anyone else?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, I have no other reason to believe that anyone else would be involved," Sherry told the group not understanding Bucky's earlier worry about Hydra having taken her.

"Why would they want her?" Fury asked, joining in the conversation.

"She's been trying to shut them down for over fifteen years. They are the biggest dealers in the illegal sex business in D.C."

"Why would it take that long to form a case?" Nat questioned as Bucky continued to pace a few feet away, listening in.

"They've managed to bribe local cops, local and federal judges, even a few congressmen and senators. It's hard to get a warrant when a judge has an under-the-table income in the high six digit range yearly to keep them safe."

Sam knew his eyes were wide hearing that. Lucy was trying to go after a very well connected family, and it seemed to have bitten her in the ass.

"Do you know where she is? Where they would have taken her?" Steve asked which caught Bucky's full attention.

"It's only a guess since we've never been able to get any proof, but they have a guarded private estate outside of Baltimore where we suspect they secure people they need to extract information from," Sherry now sounded a lot more worried.

" _Extract information_?" Bucky practically growled.

"That's the only reason they would have _taken_ Lucy instead of just shooting her at the drop site…to find out what we have on them. Alan was only passing information but we have other sources working on their case that he would not know the details of. Lucy would," Sherry explained. "We were able to confirm that Alan had been missing since early Friday. With the way he looked, I'm sure the autopsy will reveal that he'd been tortured for the past few days before they shot him. He must have finally given up her name, that's why they came for her."

In a voice that sounded much too calm now, nothing like he had been for the past hour, Bucky informed Sherry, "I need that location's address."

"Without any evidence, there's no way we could get a warrant to search…"

In a eerily, cold, steady tone, " _I_ don't need a fucking warrant," Bucky's voice making a shiver go down his own back hearing that. "They fucked up taking her. Star is _mine_."

Sherry's eyes went extremely wide at hearing the possessive nature of the Winter Soldier appearing. That was the only way that Sam could explain what had just happened. He then recalled Steve's comment on the plane to help calm him down...about needing Bucky at his ' _best_ ' to help get Star back. It seemed that Bucky might have taken that idea a bit differently than Steve had meant it to be.

"Back down, Soldier," Fury tried to sound as confident as he usually did, but none of them had any idea as to how to deal with this situation.

"Nick," Steve spoke up, "is there any sort of procedure for a situation like this?"

"No, since _this_ has never happened before," Fury stated as Bucky turned away and began to head towards the building.

"Buck, where are you going?" Steve called out.

"To get changed for my mission," the cold phrase echoed in the landing area.

Steve stared at Bucky's back for a few moments before he started to move also, saying, "I'll keep an eye on him. Find out everything you can, and Nick, see what you can do. One way or another, legal or otherwise, he's _not_ going to stop until he has Star back...and God help them if they've hurt her."

With that ominous remark, Steve took off running after his best friend.

"Well, the rest of our day is _certainly_ going to be interesting," Natasha told the now smaller group.

"I was under the impression that the two of them only got together _recently_ ," Sherry replied while looking for an answer from them. " _That_ was not ' _new boyfriend_ ' temperament."

"Using the word ' _complicated_ ' would be too much of a simplification to explain their relationship," he told her.

The rest of the group headed inside to a smaller conference room used by the pilots to prepare for missions in. Sherry was able to log into her secure system and let them look at the files that had been compiled on the O'Connells while Fury, working on his own computer, was hopefully trying to get them the authorization to go after Lucy. Sherry gave them the few details they had on the location she suspected that Lucy was being held at. It was not much and Sam hoped that Lucy was actually there and had not been taken to another unknown site.

Seeing a simple timeline chart as one of the files, Sam pulled it up to the individual screen he was using. That was when something caught his attention.

"Guys, I think I might have found a something," he said.

"A something?" Fury asked him with a curious one-eye glance.

"I don't know what else to call this, but it turns out that Lucy's file here shows that the O'Connells were working with a buyer with the initials YK who was associated with Hydra back in 1978 and an indication that it may have been even sooner."

He and Nat recognized the initials for what they were.

"So?" Fury asked not knowing her history.

"That's the year Lucy was taken," Nat stated for the group.

"What do you mean 'taken'?" Sherry asked.

He and Nat looked at each other for a few moments, both of them trying to decide how much of what they both knew needed to be shared since Lucy had not even told her coworker about her history. It was not exactly their place but Fury needed to understand what was going on so that he might be able to quell the blow-back.

"Lucy was taken as a sex slave in 1978 and sold to a guy in Russia who worked with Hydra. She got back home with some help, but seeing this note she made, I'm guessing that the O'Connells might have been the ones responsible for her being taken in the first place," Sam told Fury and Sherry.

"I remember about ten years ago when she got so mad that Fintan had to retire and passed the family business to his son Cormac. For some reason she never told me, she seemed to have a particular hatred for Fintan," Sherry explained.

"He must have been running things when she was taken," Nat offered before turning to Nick. "What can we do to get her out of there?"

Fury was sitting in his chair while processing all the new information in his head. After hearing what they had done to the informant, Sam had no doubts that they would use the same methods on Lucy to find out what they needed to protect their illegal business.

"Not a damn thing legally," Fury's answer shocked him.

"What the hell do you mean?" Sam asked more than a bit mad.

"I don't see why we would have any type of jurisdiction when it comes to this," he informed them but Sam could see that he did not look happy with having to admit that.

"They've kidnapped a federal agent after torturing and killing _another_ undercover one," he tried pointing out.

"Lucy's not _my_ agent," Nick replied pointing out the obvious to them all.

The entire table was quiet for a few moments before Natasha spoke up.

"What about if they took her _possibly_ looking for information on one or more _of your_ agents?"

Nick seemed to give a weak smile, "What are you thinking, Nat?"

"Lucy has been hanging around with three _of your agents_ for the past couple months, _Steve, Sam, and myself_. This family was known to have _some_ connection with Hydra, but we don't know the _full extent_. For all we know, they could be trying to extract information from her about _us_. That doesn't even include what she knows about _James_ ' past activities. The fact that they took her right after he left for his first mission with us for S.H.I.E.L.D.…"

Now Fury had a sly smile going, and Sam knew that Nat had found the loophole he needed.

Turning to Sherry, Fury informed her, "I'll get my own paperwork into place for a mission, but this will have to go through S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep it in house."

"Whatever it takes to get her back alive," Sherry was looking very relieved.

Nick made the call to have a TAC team put together for an immediate mission to move out ASAP. Pointing out that they may have been torturing Lucy for a few hours, Nat pointed out they should take a medical team as well. Sam hoped that they were not needed. An agent came and escorted Sherry back to her car while the three of them went in search of Steve and Bucky.

Knowing what his comment probably meant, they all headed for the locker room. Arriving at the room, they found Steve sitting on one of the benches looking very distraught. There were familiar sounds of guns being loaded coming from the weapons locker, so they knew where Bucky was.

"He's gearing up?" Nat asked a bit rhetorically.

"There's no stopping him. He's fallen back too much into his Winter Solider mode."

Hearing that worried Sam a bit since he remembered his last encounter with him. That was when Bucky emerged, stopping only because of the group now before him. He had changed into the full costume that he'd worn for so long, exposing his dangerous arm with his face mask included. Sam was not even sure where he had gotten the eye black from, guessing the TAC team supply room.

Seeing him like this worried Sam about any progress that Bucky had been able to make over the past few weeks.

"Do you have the address?" his voice was heavy with a Russian accent as he focused on Natasha for the answer.

"Yes, but…"

"Give it to me. I'm going to get my Star back. Extraction with no witnesses."

"Listen here," Nick firmly started but when Bucky took a step towards him with his hand falling to his sidearm, Nick took a step back. Knowing he needed to take control of the situation, Fury tried again. " _This_ is now a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission and if _you_ want to be a part of it, _Soldier_ , then you will listen to _me_ as your _commanding officer_."

Sam didn't know if the narrowing of his eyes was good or bad at first, but as the seconds ticked by, the Winter Solider then stood straighter and they all realized that he was waiting for orders to be given.

"Nick, you are giving us clearance to go save her?" Steve asked rising to stand next to Bucky.

"Yes," he nodded his head before turning to Bucky. "This F.B.I. agent knows classified information about my S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that cannot be given over to a mafia family with possible Hydra ties. You will go to the location and extract her with _minimal_ casualties. You are part of this _team_ now, Soldier. If Rogers gives you an order, you are to _obey_ it."

Bucky's eyes narrowed again and his brow furrowed at hearing that. Sam knew that he wanted to and would do whatever he deemed necessary to get ' _his Star_ ' back. Thinking that, Sam realized that he would have to talk with him about this possessive nature over her at a _much later, calmer_ time.

"Yes, Sir."

The group then began to move as one back down towards the briefing room as members of the TAC team started arriving to get prepped for the rescue mission.

* * *

Reaching the outskirts of the property, Bucky was pissed that so many hours had passed since Star had been taken. According to Sherry's timeline, Star tried to place the call at 7:52 a.m. It was now about 5:00 in the evening. She had been gone for too many hours before he even knew that she was in trouble. Then he'd been made to wait as the entire TAC team was given information on the location. He'd gone on other missions without knowing any of the answers to the questions they kept asking. He only wanted to get to Star.

" _Is everyone in place_?" Steve asked over the earpiece.

Everyone positively responded, himself included. He was heading in the cellar door located on the side of the house near the driveway. The files that Sherry gave them indicated that they had seen movement over the years around that area after a witness went missing, but never could get any solid evidence. The large metal barrels being removed could hold anything, the judges would tell the agency when they tried to get warrants, she had told them. But Sherry had stated that she was sure _if_ they had a room set up to torture people in, that it would be down there.

The others were heading in through the front and back doors while Sam was responsible for the three guards on the upper porches and roof. A small TAC team had been assembled to work with them, and Steve had informed them to stay out of Bucky's way while also assigning them to the opposite side of the house. Assist only if requested, and take down anyone with non-lethal force otherwise. Steve knew that it would be pointless to give the same order to Bucky. Steve was handling the rear of the property.

" _Move in!_ " the command from Steve finally came.

Pulling the trigger of the silenced gun, he took out the guard closest to him before moving forward. By the time he exited the tree line, he heard confirmation of guards being silently taken out from the other side of the house by the TAC team. Overhead, he could hear the faint sound of Sam's wing-suit as he moved in. Not stopping, Bucky made a beeline for the padlocked cellar doors. Reaching them, he gripped the lock in his left hand, crushing it as he heard the sound of someone approaching from his right side. Turning to aim his gun, he watched as Steve rounded the corner of the house, his shield already up to block any shot he took.

"You didn't think I would let you go in alone, did you?" Steve smiled at him as they each grabbed one of the two doors and raised them.

The stairs heading down were concrete and the room below was mostly dark. Reaching the bottom, they scanned the hallway which had lights mounted too far apart, giving numerous hiding places along the old jagged brick walls. They passed a set of wooden stairs leading up to the interior of the house.

Stopping at the corner, he listened for any sound and they could hear two men talking. He put his arm back to hold Steve in place to listen and assess the situation.

"Get anything out of her yet?" voice one asked as a heavy door closed followed by metallic clicking sound.

"Naw, I'm goin' to be playing with her for days. Wouldn't say a useful thing. She's a tough 'ole bird, like me Mum. I hated me Mum," the other laughed. Being able to hear the humor in his voice, he continued, "Cunt kept screamin' I was scary. And by the time she passed out, she was beggin' me ta stop...callin' me Master for some bloody reason."

Hearing that, he could barely contain his rage. This asshole had hurt Star so badly that she'd believed she was back in Kozlov's hands while screaming out for him to help her.

Shuffling on the floor told him they were headed their way, probably to the stairs leading up into the house. Sure enough, he had his gun raised by the time they rounded the corner, finding him and Steve there, and suddenly stopping.

"What the feck?" one of the guys commented.

With a quick glance between them, a single silenced shot went out as he fired, taking the useless one of them who had spoken down permanently with a bullet between his eyes.

Grabbing around the neck of the other, he quickly glanced around the corner not spotting any sign of Star so squeezed tightly as he asked, "Where is she?"

"Fuck you! Ya' have no idea who you are fuckin' dealin' with. Ya're a dead man," he struggled in his grasp, so Bucky twisted his body so that he was able to slam the guy up against the brick wall. He already knew before he recognized the voice as him being the one who had hurt Star. The guy was shirtless and covered in tattoos but it was the dried blood scattered across his chest that caught his attention before he'd killed the other.

" _You_ are the dead man, now tell me where she is!" he yelled tightening his grip a bit.

Steve was moving down the corridor, looking at the couple of doors lining the walls before stopping at one.

"Buck," he said getting his attention. In Steve's hand was a padlock. None of the other doors were locked that way.

"I'll deal with you in a little while," he told the man before flinging him across the small area and slamming against the opposite wall so hard that he fell unconscious. As he walked to the door, Steve went over and bend down to see if he was still alive before lifting the man's hands, finding his knuckles also bruised before turning his worried look on him. He knew how someone would damage their hands like that...punching another person.

"Buck, we don't know for sure what this mean," Steve said standing back up, but he was already reaching for the lock that Steve had found.

Ripping it off, he turned the handle, pulling the door open.

The room inside was cold and not a single light was on. The coppery smell of blood was thick in the air as he stepped inside with Steve close behind. He moved forward for two steps towards a dark silhouette ahead of him when Steve turned on the light switch. His mind then had a hard time trying to decipher what his eyes were seeing. He was frozen in place as he stared...

"Nooo," he heard Steve's broken voice strain out as he stepped towards the dangling limp form.

At first, Bucky tried to believe that the mostly naked person hanging from the chain was some other female thanks to the short hair. But there, resting on her skin, was the familiar tattoo telling him that it was indeed his Star.

Taking a few steps forward, his foot crunched on something unfamiliar and he had to glance down. It took a few seconds to register that he was standing on the long strands of hair resting in a tendril of blood spreading away from her body.

"Nat, get that medical team to the basement…Now!" he heard sorrowfully yelled from behind him as he once again moved forward.

Looking at Star, he tried to find anything familiar about her with the bloody pulp that was left. Tears began to fill his eyes as he took in each new type of damage he discovered on her body.

Star had been stripped down to nothing but her underwear. The man had left her hanging which showed him that her left forearm was broken, the bones slightly poking outward so they pressed against her dark bruised skin. Her upper face was nothing but bruises and both of her eyes were swollen shut. Blood was running from her injured nose over her mouth, pouring over her naked chest. Across her stomach and chest he recognized the signs of electrical burns. There were large purple contusions on her sides and he was sure that she probably had damage to her ribs. Her legs were also covered in swollen blemishes from strikes...but it was the thin zip-ties wrapped around her toes that drew his eye.

His voice was strained and cracking as he yelled, "Steve, get over here!"

Grabbing the chain and pulling so that it broke free from the ceiling, dropping Star's arms. Wrapping his metal arm around her back, he moved slowly to lay her down on the concrete floor while trying to be careful of her broken arm.

"Find both of us scissors or cutters on those tables, hurry."

Steve promptly moved to do as requested, already looking for the items before asking, "What's wrong?"

"He's cut circulation to her toes, they'll gangrene. She'll lose her toes, or maybe her feet if we don't get them off quick," he informed him as Steve came over with two small pairs of bolt cutters.

They were finishing with carefully snipping away the plastic when he noticed that Sam and Nat had been standing at the door watching. Seconds later, the medical team squeezed through them to enter the room. As they began to examine Star, who had not shown any sign of consciousness, he began destroying the metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles with his hand while Steve was cutting away another zip-tie around her lower legs.

"She's alive and unconscious but her pulse is weak," one of the technicians told him doing a quick check on her.

"Where did all the blood on the floor come from?" Nat then calmly asked.

Hearing that, he realized that there was too much on the floor for just the minor hits she had taken to the face. The medic looked Star over a bit better. Bucky had moved so that he was now kneeling closer to Star's shoulder. But when the medic partially rolled her over towards him, the man began a string of curses.

"Her back, it's nothing but raw flesh," the medic was pale as he informed them. Bucky could not see it, but if it upset someone who was used to injuries, it had to be bad. Since he had wrapped his left arm around her back to lower Star to the ground, he had not felt the damage to realize what had happened.

"We need to get her up off of the floor to try and stave off infection," the technician requested.

Reaching over, he slid his arm under her neck and lifted her torso up so that her chest was against his, her head lying against his metal shoulder. This allowed the medic to get a much better look at her back, which Bucky couldn't, and he had to turn away from the sight. Considering the amount of damage her back must have along with the blood loss, Bucky knew that he might actually loose her. His Star.

Either due to the numerous hands touching her or moving her into position, Bucky noticed that Star seemed to be slightly waking up from all the attention. She was starting to move her head, barely shaking it as he saw a tear run from the corner of her eye. He realized that she must think that it was the man who had hurt her. She had no idea that he was there.

"Star," he gently lifted her head by touching her jawline, one of the few places not injured since they needed her to be able to talk. Hunching over so that she could see his face, "It's me, Scary. You're safe."

Watching has she managed to crack one eye open a sliver, he saw a smile form on her bloody lips. Star's trembling right hand then reached up and touched his face mask so he placed his hand over hers.

"There...you...are...I've...missed...you..." she managed to whisper before crying out and falling unconscious. He knew that the amount of pain she was in was excruciating and it was better for her to be blacked out for now.

Tilting his head further down, he rested his forehead against hers, needing to feel that skin-to-skin contact as he carefully held her while the medics worked to save her. Seeing her, holding her, knowing he could loose her, Bucky could feel another anxiety attack trying to come on. But he couldn't fall apart here, not with Star in his arms. She needed him as much as he needed her. Taking deep breaths as Sam had said to, he began to pull from his Hydra conditioning to help control himself. The emotions running through him right now were all Bucky but he pushed them to the side for later, when he could deal with them better, when he could let them out.

As the medics and technicians swarmed around him working on Star, getting her ready for transport, he could only sit there and glance at her mangled face. If anyone had shown him a picture of her like this, he never would have recognized her. He carefully ran his hand through her short hair, knowing how upset she was going to be later on...if she survived.

"Bucky, they're ready. It's time to move her. They'll help her, but you need to put Star on the stretcher," Steve's hand touched his shoulder, trying to unsuccessfully draw him away from her. When he didn't move, "That's an order, Solider."

He needed her to live, which meant that Star needed to get out of here. He did as Steve commanded, carefully helping the medics to place her face down on the rescue stretcher they had laid out. It turned his stomach as he caught his first glimpse of the damage done to her back. Both Steve and Sam began cursing as they turned away as a cover was gently placed over the raw muscle area. Even Nat had to step from the room as her hand gripped her gun with white knuckles.

Following them as they carried Star out of the torture room, he stopped when he saw the man he had tossed against the wall earlier now cuffed and sitting on the floor with a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent guarding him.

Leaving Star to the medics, he was drawn to the grinning man on the floor...the one who had hurt his Star. This sadist would be the _perfect outlet_ for the numerous swirling emotions he was barely keeping repressed right now.

Reaching down, his metal arm lifted him as high as he could by his neck.

"Captain?" the worried agent questioned what he should do.

"At ease. Escort the medics and make sure they get her on the Quinjet safe," Steve ordered as he started to carry the man determinedly across the hall towards his own torture room.

He may not have punished Kozlov for what he had done to Star, but this one would truly pay for his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hope you're not too mad...but trust me when I say that everything has a reason.
> 
> I'm only posting one chapter today since I have a question for everyone out there. I've had readers comment that they were curious as to Star somehow being de-aged a bit to make her look closer to Bucky/Scary's age. With the original ending that I have to this story, I'll admit that it does not happen.  
> But...  
> It is an interesting idea that I did not think of doing when I wrote this.  
> So...  
> I'm going to pause the story here for a day or two so that I can get a feel for your thoughts on the subject. I'm considering editing/writing an alternative ending where this does happen...if I get enough positive responses. I will then post BOTH endings, listing each as Original and Alternative, so that you can read either one, or both.
> 
> Please comment to let me know what you think!!!


	62. Bucky Gets His Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to go ahead and post the Original Ending to this story. I'm working on the Alternate Ending and should have it posted in a few days. I hope that you enjoy both of them. Thanks for being patient and sorry for making you wait for both endings.

**Song: _Animal I Have Become_ by Three Days Grace  
**

* * *

"Steve, you can't let him do this," Sam was saying from behind him as he watched Bucky carry the cursing, struggling criminal into the room they had found Star tortured in. "He's not in his right mind right now. Killing this guy, it may be _too much_ for him to come back from."

Steve knew that Sam was right, but unfortunately…he agreed with Bucky.

He had tortured Star for hours, and it had even sounded as if he'd _enjoyed_ it while talking to the other criminal. Steve had seen the damage to Star's back and it turned his stomach in a way he had never felt before. That evil man had hurt her in a way that no other person should ever hurt another. So what if he died a bit slower than a bullet to the head like his friend had?

"Sam, go with Star and watch out for her. I'll stay with him," he said.

"Stay? Not stop?" Natasha spoke up but it was not judgement that he saw in her eyes. Did she agree?

At that point, knowing what he was about to let happen, he couldn't look at either one of them.

Stepping over to the room, Steve walked inside and closed the door behind them.

* * *

"I'll stay and deal with the clean-up," Natasha told Sam who was still staring at the door containing his friends who were about to kill a man. It wasn't that she didn't agree, but she was shocked that Steve might let it go that far. Nat had seen the hurt in his eyes at seeing what had been physically done to Lucy on top of knowing how much mental damage Bucky was now suffering.

"Stop him if you can, Nat," Sam's voice pleaded with her before he left to follow the medics.

Glancing over at it, she had no intention of opening that door unless it was to hand them a loaded gun. Instead, she made her way back up the stairs to the kitchen which she had come down from. She heard the sound of a Quinjet taking off, getting Lucy to the Triskelion for treatment. The injuries she had received were bad, but Nat had looked over the numerous files on this Tommy. He unfortunately knew what he was doing, and he had brought Lucy to the point of unconsciousness, not at the edge of death. Nat was sure she was going to make it.

Agents had rounded up everyone in the house, holding most of them in the large foyer, handcuffed and looking extremely mad. They never expected to have their private sanctuary invaded as it had been tonight. And definitely not by S.H.I.E.L.D. Passing them by with barely a glance, she entered the office where the two most important prisoners were currently being guarded.

"You'll pay for this," Cormac spat out a her, anger dripping from his voice. "You have no idea who you are dealing with. We have friends in high places."

"Friends? Is that what you call the people you bribe or blackmail?" she calmly asked taking a seat at the large desk. "After tonight, I'm sure that not a single one of them will be returning _any_ of your phone calls."

"Lots of people owe us, and we'll just collect on that debt," the old man, Fentan, told her.

Playing with the glass paperweight that contained a four leaf clover, Nat told them, "You think so? Or is it more likely that they will want to keep their noses clean and stay out of this. It's not like you are going to have access to any of your money, or even files to blackmail them with. In Washington, politicians make empty promises, they don't accept them as payment."

"There are records that they will not want made public," Fentan proudly told her. "They'll do anything we ask to keep them from getting out."

"Records?" now she was curious. She noticed that there was not a computer in this office. Sitting forward in the comfortable chair, she asked, "And how are you going to get to them in jail?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about us," Cormac sneered at her. "Too bad we didn't meet under other circumstances. I know a guy who has a thing for red heads. With a body like that, you would have been top dollar."

Hearing that, Nat's face dropped all hint of emotion. They were too cocky for their own good, but now she knew there was a reason. Spinning in the chair, she looked carefully around the room, spotting the perfect location for what she knew had to be here. Walking over to the painting, she pulled the hinged item away from the safe that it was hiding.

How old school predictable they were.

"Get the fuck away from there," Cormac called out to her. "You have no right to go in there."

"See, that's where you are wrong, again," she informed them starting to work on the simple lock.

She was a bit surprised that they still had such an older model safe to use. This model had been obsolete for over twenty years. They really did feel safe in this location from ever being raided. Pulling the lever, the door swung open to reveal numerous journals. Taking one out she ignored the voices from behind her she scanned the contents.

"Get them out of here," she requested of the guards, "I have some reading to do."

* * *

For most of the time that Steve was in the room, his attention was on the metal barrel he was using to support himself with. He knew that it had been waiting to be used for a sick act. The guy had already put the clothes he had removed from her inside of it. Star's dead body would have been next. Sherry's files said that numerous barrels had been taken from here and never found again. If they hadn't come for her, Star would have simply vanished.

Then Steve began to consider the alternative. If Star had not come to meet him that day, this evil family would have taken her without any of them ever getting to know her. Bucky might have found the files in Siberia to remember Star, but there was a chance that they might not have been enough to bring back those happy memories of the two of them. Even if they had and Bucky had gone looking for her, Star would have just been gone...vanished without a trace. And Bucky would never have known what happened to her. Nobody would have...except for the crying man behind him.

Every so often, when the sound of the man's screams started to get to him, Steve would glance down at Star's hair lying in a pool of her own blood, reminding him why he was there. After hearing the sound of another bone cracking, Steve had to drop his head a bit more over the open barrel. He had long ago lost count of how many times he'd heard that sound.

When Steve opened his eyes, he was now able to see something shiny at the barrel's bottom. Reaching in, Steve pulled out the bracelet that Star wore to symbolize her Scary. The clasp was broken, probably from being yanked from her bound arms, before being discarded into the waiting metal tomb. Running his fingers over the silver disks and red star, he began to see that to the man behind him Star was probably nothing more than trash to be thrown away. Gripping the bracelet in his hand, he tried to calm himself down as his mind raced over the entire situation.

He was just as angry as Bucky was for what the man had done to Star, but Steve also had to take into account what it had done mentally to Bucky on top of it. His friend had been hurt and tortured for years, forced to kill against his will, brainwashed into submission.

And the moment he had finally managed to find a bit of peace and happiness…the screaming man had tried to take that shining light away from him.

Steve knew that the first time his own hands had red on them was from his time during the war. But that was not what people remembered. They remembered the scrawny kid who became a national hero. Not the punk who used to pick fights with bullied twice his size. Not the soldier who shot and killed more Nazi and Hydra agents than he could even count. Some of them had only been following orders. But then there were the others…the evil ones. Just like the man hanging where Star had been just a short time ago.

When the room became quiet for too long, he finally looked over at Bucky while slipping the bracelet into his pocket. Seeing the condition his friend was in, Steve decided he would give it to Bucky later. For now, he would keep it safe.

Bucky had not removed his mask so it only hid the blood splatter that covered the lower part of his face. His arms were splattered with the shiny red substance to match his star. Even his hair had little drips of blood falling every so often. Bucky had not used any of the numerous items or tools available on the workbenches, instead favoring his own brute force.

"Is he dead?" Steve tried to calmly ask while looking at the unrecognizable bloody pulp of a man.

"No, just unconscious."

"Are you done?"

"Yes. I need to see Star."

"We'll have to get you cleaned up first, Bucky."

"Don't call me that."

Steve turned his gaze to his friend's eyes…and found nothing recognizable there.

"That's your name."

"No, it's not," Bucky broke eye contact and looked over at the probably dying man. "You shouldn't have stayed."

"I was not going to leave you alone."

"I shouldn't have let you stay."

"You know that you needed me here. Would you have killed him if I was not here?"

"Yes." There had not been any hesitation with that answer.

"And _that_ is why you let me stay…to be the conscious that you could not have while you chose to punish him for what he did to Star."

Bucky looked over at him with a look in his eyes that was cold.

"Chose? No, he _deserved everything_ I did. Probably more."

"You're right. But now, it's time to go find out about Star."

"Will I get to see her before…" his voice trailed off, not able to finish asking something.

"Before what?"

"Before they lock me away."

Steve walked over to where Bucky was still standing and placed his hand on his shoulder to guide him towards the door. They only made it about a foot before Bucky stopped and bent down. Steve watched as he picked up a handful of Star's long hair, running his fingers over the loose strands covered in her own sticky blood. It had been cut off and tossed to the ground like trash, just as Steve knew how the man saw Star.

"Nobody is going to lock you up."

"They should. He's the proof that I'm still the monster that Hydra made me…that Hydra perfected."

"Bucky…" he started but in a swift move his best friend pressed his metal forearm against his chest, pushing him back so that he fell against the door. Steve became alert so that he could be prepared for whatever happened next.

"Don't call me that!"

Bucky held him in place for a few seconds as his eyes were eventually drawn to Star's hair a final time before dropping it to the ground.

Steve knew that he should be afraid, but this was Bucky…right?

"Would you feel better if I called you Scary?"

"No," Bucky turned to look over his shoulder to consider the beaten man. "This was all Winter Soldier."

"And his job is now done. So let's get out of here and go find either one of them. Star is going to need both of them when she wakes up."

Bucky then eased his stance to let him go, taking a step back from him while seeming a bit lost.

"I can't…she…she deserves better than this part of me. It's a darkness that will always be there."

"No," Steve firmly told him. " _This_ is who she understands and accepts. _This_ is who she will never be afraid of. _This_ is who will help her get through this."

"How can you say that?"

"With everything she had just gone through, seeing you like this, she glimpsed your darkness and she reached up for you. Star loves you unconditionally...as Bucky, as Scary, and as the Winter Soldier."

"Star deserves so much more, someone worthy of her."

Steve could see Bucky starting to slightly break down due to the overall situation, maybe even beginning to actually believe the nonsense that he was spouting. Thinking of something dramatic to say, he hoped this helped while not getting him injured in the process.

"If Star woke up screaming from a nightmare, who do you want to be in the bed next to her to comfort her…you or me?"

That got his friend's attention, and in a bad way judging by the set of blackened cold blue jealous eyes now aimed right at him. Bucky took a step towards where Steve was already backed up against the door. Pointing a menacing silver finger right in his face...

"Don't you even think about…"

"You just made my point for me," raising his hands to placate him, Steve smiled trying to lighten the mood. He knew that Bucky wanted to be there for Star. All he had to do was make him admit it to himself. And he just did.

"Come on, Jerk. Let's go get you cleaned up."

Stepping out of the room, the Winter Soldier finally removed his mask.

* * *

Holding Star's bracelet in his hand, Bucky tried to listen to the doctor's explanation of what they were doing for Star but he just couldn't focus. He and Steve were in an observation room next to where Star was lying as the surgeon's worked on her back. Steve had glanced over when they first arrived, getting a good look at her back. He hadn't seen him look so nauseous since the last time he had gotten the flu back in the early forties. For the rest of the time, Steve sat in the chair, looking anywhere else.

He had taken a quick shower in the locker room before putting on a spare set of workout clothes that Steve had in his locker. After having his old uniform off, he felt like he needed anything touching his skin to be loose. Luckily Steve had a long sleeve baggy sweatshirt. Pulling his thoughts back to the rambling doctor, he finally paid attention to him.

"It will take a few hours for them to remove the shredded skin. After that, Fury has authorized an experimental procedure that will…"

"You want to fucking _experiment_ on her!?" Bucky's anger was now suddenly focused on the doctor as he took a step towards him.

Steve jumped up and grabbed firmly onto his shoulders, pulling him a few steps back from the frightened doctor.

"Buck, it's not what you think. They're trying to _help_ her, not _change_ her," he heard from behind him. "What _type_ of procedure, doctor?"

"It's a special artificial dissolving mesh to cover the wound and an experimental salve that will stimulate the growth of her own skin at an extremely accelerated rate. With the amount of area that has been damaged, the only other option would be a skin graft from a donor, but it's not really feasible due to the amount of area needing to be covered. We've used the salve before on numerous occasions with very good success. Her skin will grow back but there is a chance that it may be rough or permanently scarred."

Bucky had calmed down as he listened to the explanation until the doctor got to the last part, giving a slight chuckled at what he had said even though it was the opposite of funny. But if he didn't laugh, he would cry. The damage that had been done to Star was so great that the doctor's couldn't even tell that her back had already been nothing _but_ scars. Trying to let the tension in his body go, he felt Steve's hands leave him so he turned to sit in the chair as he looked at Star's prone unconscious form.

"We will have to watch out for infections, which has a higher chance with her condition. And due to the amount of pain that she would be in, instead of using a morphine drip for so long, we've elected to keep her in a medically induced coma until we are satisfied with the percentage and thickness of skin regrowth."

"What about her other injuries?" Bucky calmly asked looking again at the bracelet.

"We will use the same salve on the electrical burns and they will be gone in a matter of days. The other surgeon has already set her broken arm and put the cast on while she was being prepped for surgery. The X-ray showed that her ribs are only bruised, not broken, which is good since she will have to lay on her sides for quite a while. There's not too much we can do for the swelling on her face, cold packs every so often."

"What about her toes?" Steve asked.

"We didn't find any sign of permanent damage. The blood's circulation must not have been cut off for long enough. Except for her broken toes, they will be fine."

"Broken toes?" Steve asked.

"That was done long ago," he simply told him, getting a nod from Steve in understanding.

"May I ask? Is that when the injuries to the bottoms of her feet occurred?" the doctor asked.

"Yes."

"So, she's been tortured before?" he was now looking between the two of them. Bucky could only nod. "Then she's probably going to need to see a mental health professional."

"A shrink," Bucky stated.

"They don't actually like to be called that," he heard the humor in the doctor's voice.

"Thanks," Steve offered for both of them so the doctor walked away, leaving them alone.

Feeling a bit calmer, he tucked Star's bracelet into his pocket so that he could give it back to her once she woke up.

Steve quietly asked him after a short bit, "What's wrong with the bottom of Star's feet?"

"Kozlov beat them raw. They healed covered in scars…just like her entire back already was."

"Her entire back?" Steve asked aloud. "That area you showed me the other night while she slept on the couch...you're telling me that her entire back looked like that. I though that was only a small area."

"That area you saw was at the far edge of the damage. The worst was closer to her spine where you couldn't see it," he informed him. "Her entire back was marked one way or another."

"Star has had _that_ ," he pointed towards her sounding disbelieving and needing it confirmed again, "done to her before?"

"In a way, yes," taking a breath he told Steve, "Kozlov used numerous items to beat her with over the four years he had her. Star had that done to her back too many times to count. Her skin was broken and healed in multiple layers of thick, rough scars. That guy in the basement hurt her so bad the doctors couldn't even tell."

Steve bent over and put his face in his hands again, trying to calm his breathing. Maybe Steve now understood why he had gone to such extremes for vengeance.

For the next few minutes, they sat in silence as the speaker for the operating room played at a low volume. He only had it on so that he could hear the moment something might go wrong. When the door behind them opened, neither bothered to look as the heavy footsteps came towards them. Fury came to stand at the window looking over at Star for a bit before he spoke.

"Captain, care to give me a quick briefing as to what happened in that basement?"

"Not really, Sir."

That got Fury's eyebrow raised towards the two of them.

"Why don't you give it a try anyways? _Off_ _the record_."

Steve looked over at Bucky and he nodded his approval for him to let Fury know what he'd done. He probably already did, he guessed. Bucky listened as Steve honestly told him what they had heard the men saying and what he had done before they found Star in the room. When Steve started to list off her injuries, Fury admitted that he had already spoken with the doctors. Then Steve hesitantly told about how Bucky had taken the man into the room, probably waiting to see how much trouble they were _both_ about to be in.

"I've seen and spoken with the other patient," Fury turned to look at Star again. "Where were you at while that was happening, Captain?"

"About eight feet away, Sir."

Fury sighed but didn't speak or move for a while.

"I questioned the prisoner when he woke up as to why he did that to her back. With a smile on his face he told me that since her skin was already so tough due to scaring that he had to get down to the sensitive tissue so she would answer his questions."

The room was filled with the sound of the metal arms of his chair being twisted and broken off.

"At ease, Sergeant," Fury had turned to face him, worried that he was about to have an outburst. But he would not do anything in here that would distract from the medical attention that Star was getting.

"He'll be fine, Nick," Steve's hand was on his shoulder.

"I take it from what I learned from him and the doctors that Lucy's been tortured before, possibly extensively?" Fury asked. Both he and Steve just nodded to let him know. He saw a slight falling of his shoulders as if he were hoping for a different answer. He then dropped the subject by saying, "Nat's on the way back with a bunch of ledgers that she found in a safe that give not only client names, but the names of the bribed cops, judges, and politicians. For the next few weeks, S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to be cleaning up the rest of this city that didn't have anything to do with Hydra. During that time, the two of you will be sitting out from missions."

That was their punishment? To sit around?...not that he was going to leave Star's side if he could help it.

"Are you going to have Lucy moved to a public hospital?" Steve then asked.

"No. With the information that was gathered due to her kidnapping, considering all the corrupt officials named in those journals, the safest place for her right now is here. You'll both have access to her room once she is moved."

Since neither of the other two were bringing it up, Bucky finally had to ask, "Am I going to be taken into custody for what I did?"

"No," Fury firmly informed him. "I'm the top authority here and it's my decision as to what happens under my roof. I don't see anything wrong with what happened."

Bucky glanced up at Fury with a questioning look at that comment.

"Next time, just so you know, the paperwork on a dead body is much shorter," Fury stated, leaving the two of them stunned and glaring at him. "I'm not a motherfucking saint."

Fury then turned and walked out of the room.

* * *

Three days later, Bucky was woken up early in the morning by the feeling of being watched. Lifting his head up from the headrest of the reclining chair in Star's recovery room, he found the reason why.

"That is a nasty habit that you need to get out of, Widow," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he examined Star. She had not moved in the slightest since before he fell asleep what felt like only hours ago. The doctor told him that she wouldn't move at all, but he had reasons not to fully trust them thanks to previous experiences.

"I have to stay in practice somehow," Nat said moving from her spot at the window to stand at the foot of the bed. She had stopped by a couple of times over the past days, along with Steve, Sam, and Fury. "No change?"

"Not too much. The swelling has gone down and the burn marks are mostly healed. They keep working on her back, changing the bandages and applying the stuff, but until they feel she's ready to deal with the pain, they're going to keep her asleep."

Star was hooked up to numerous bags for either medicine or nourishment. Over her lower face was a breathing mask since her nose was still too swollen for air tubes to go in. He had long ago drowned out the constant sound of the heartbeat machine, only noticing it now if he wanted to.

"It's probably for the best, right now. Why don't you either head home or to Steve's and get cleaned up?"

"Steve's bringing me a clean set of clothes in a little while. There's a small shower in the bathroom."

He saw that she had a journal that was not one of his in her hand.

"What's that?"

"This was found in the safe at the O'Connell house, along with a lot more just like them. The analysts have been going over them, and after talking with Steve I put in a request for them to be on the lookout for something. And they found it. This is an older one of the books that contain the names of their high-end buyers…along with their purchases," she gave him a small smile as she flipped the book open to a marked page. For the next minute, he was fixated on the names before him, almost feeling like he could cry since he understood the meaning.

"I have a project that I'm going to need a lot of help and favors with. Nat, I have no right to ask this of you, considering that I shot you, but there's nobody else that I can trust with this," he told her, seeing a slight smile come over her.

"Having _you_ owe _me_? Why would I pass up _that_ opportunity?" Nat was actually grinning now.

"I _already_ owed you one, now it will be _two_ ," he told her as she sat down in the other chair usually occupied by Steve or Sam.

"Since you shot me _twice_ , wouldn't this be number _three_?" she deviously smiled while wiggling three fingers in the air.

Relenting with a grin and chuckle, "Fine, I owe you _three_...", he firmly stated before starting to explain the favor.

* * *

"And I thought you looked like crap that day when you first showed up at my apartment!" Steve had to taunt his friend who was eating some kind of granola bar for breakfast. Stepping just inside the room, he told him, "Star has a visitor."

Sherry then stepped inside of the room, her entire focus drawn to Star's body lying in the bed on her side. By the time she reached her friend's side, Sherry had tears running down her face. When she was able to regain her composure a few minutes later, she asked, "Who did this to her? Was it Tommy?"

He looked over at Steve for that answer. He never bothered to find out the name of the man who he'd beaten to a pulp.

"Yes. He's a level down on a secured floor. He's in pretty bad shape," Steve told her.

"Good," she said gently touching Star's cast. "I hope he dies."

Her comment reminded him so much of what Star had told him at dinner one night when she heard about what happened at the Vault. Seemed that Sherry had that same vengeance streak that Star did. But she also knew who had done this and what he had done in the past. Stepping over to Bucky, he handed him the bag holding the clothes and shaving kit that he had brought.

"Go get cleaned up. We'll stay here with Star," he told him to which Bucky only nodded before closing the bathroom door behind him. Steve wondered how long it would take Bucky to notice his surprise.

As the shower ran in the background, he and Sherry sat and talked for a while about what had happened at the house. Hearing how she had reacted to the revelation about Tommy, he decided to not hold anything back. He knew now that she and Star had not only worked together for a long time, but were good friends, even with keeping Bucky a secret from her. Sherry was the only member of the team that was going to be granted access to the Triskelion to see Star while she was still here, and only because of Steve's request.

"So, why was James using your phone to text Lucy and signing them Scary?" she finally got around to asking.

"It's a bit of a long and classified story for part of that explanation but let's just say it's easier to send a text on anything but a burner flip phone," he grinned at her. "So he would borrow mine. They call each other by nicknames, his is Scary, hers is Star."

"Probably for her tattoo, right?" Steve nodded in agreement. "Your friend Sam said that their relationship was complicated, at best. Can you explain part of that at least?"

Steve took a moment to figure out how much he could tell her and how much Star would want her to know.

"Remember when we mentioned Lucy being taken years ago?" Sherry nodded, her fully attention on him. "Bucky was the one to help free her and get her back to America in 1984."

With the way that her face scrunched up at hearing that, he knew what was coming.

"What was he, like, two years old?" she had a smile on her face.

"Not exactly. That answer falls under the classified category. But I can tell you that they are very happy being together again, even with the tribulations they are going through."

"I've never seen Lucy so happy as she has been over the past week. Days ago, I finally saw her smile at a text and got her to admit that there was some special…James," that was when she paused while talking. Tilting her head, she look at him and then the closed bathroom door, then back at him and her eyes went wide. "James. You just called him Bucky. You're Captain America. The Howling Commandos…Bucky was one of them. But he died!"

Steve shouldn't be surprised that she figured it out so easily considering what she did for a living.

"Let's just say that every history book out there would have to be changed if that information wasn't _classified_ ," he sheepishly grinned at Sherry who was frozen staring at him. "I'll see if eventually we can get you clearance to know the whole story, but no guarantees."

"Oh, what the hell, Steve!" came the yell from the bathroom, getting both of them to look that way. When the door opened, Bucky was standing there dressed in the clothes he had brought…all of them normal except for a bright blue t-shirt with little white stars all over it. He searched the store for an hour before he'd found the perfect joke shirt. "I can't believe you did this to me. My first bath in days, and now I look like a dancing money!"

When he had calmed back down from laughing at his friend, Steve told him, "That reminds me…Sam is going to bring you lunch today. He wants the two of you to talk for a little while."

"I can guess the topic," Bucky sat back in his chair close to the bed and took Star's good hand in his. Steve noticed that Sherry was staring at the silver arm now exposed on Bucky but she never said anything about it. He guessed that she figured it fell into that 'classified' category also.

"James, Bucky, or whatever you want to be called, I wanted you to know that I've called Star's brother, David. A small group of family members are flying up today from Savannah to see Star."

"I didn't even think about calling them," Bucky admitted. "All that Star told me that her mom is a bit haughty."

"That woman can drive the Pope to drink," Sherry humorously told them. "I'm picking them up this afternoon. They're staying at a hotel nearby. So you know, one of your agents gave me instructions on what to tell them, about why she's not in a real hospital. But, just be prepared. Having some Prozac or Zoloft handy would be good."

Steve looked confused over at Bucky who was the same, and Sherry noticed.

"Sorry. Forgot who I was talking to," she smiled at the both of them. "Whiskey, vodka, or bourbon. Just ignore all of the criticism, she's a bit...no, she's a _lot_ narrow minded with certain things. Fuck, the two of you are _definitely_ going to need alcohol afterwards."

"She's that bad?" Steve had to ask.

"Sandra is one of a kind…thank God."

The three of them talked for a little bit before the nurses came to change the bandages again. She tried to stay strong but when Sherry caught a glimpse of the damage still too fresh to Star's back, she was overcome with emotion so he offered to walk her out.

They ended up in the main lobby as they walked and chatted, Sherry asking him questions about what was going to happen with the O'Connell case. S.H.I.E.L.D. had pulled some strings to stay in charge of the cases since there were so many corrupt officials and politicians who could shut them down. But Star's team was still working on it since they were the ones most familiar with the people involved. With both agencies working together, it would guarantee that everyone one involved with them would eventually go to trial.

"Did you know that Lucy's original overall plan was to take the O'Connell family down then retire?" Sherry told him as they reached her car.

"Really?" he asked.

"For some reason…well, _now_ I know why, Lucy wanted to make sure that they were out of business. Even with others still out there, she said that if she didn't have a set goal, that this job would never end. The O'Connells were her white whale…and she actually managed to catch them."

"I get that reference," he smile at her before explaining the story behind that, earning him quite a few laughs.

After talking for a few more minutes, they parted before he made his way back up to Star's room. Bucky hadn't left it since they had brought her from surgery, and Steve suspected that he would be here until she woke up. The nurses were gone and now Star had been rolled to her other side.

He recalled the other day when a male nurse had entered. The moment he tried to touch Star, Bucky's...actually, _Scary's_ possessive nature kicked in and the guy had been kicked out. From that point on, he and female nurses took care of her. Male doctors were allowed, but Steve knew that Bucky was watching them very carefully.

"Sherry gone?" Bucky asked as he stood in a sunbeam coming through the window.

"Yeah, but she'll be back later with Star's family. I'm also going to keep in touch with her daily and let her know how she is doing," he said taking an empty chair. "We talked for a bit before she left though. Remember that raid that Star went on about a week ago?"

"How could I forget?"

"Sherry mentioned that there were only three girls in the container, and that it had bothered them."

Bucky turned to face him, leaning on the windowsill.

"Star mentioned that when she got home that night. They always found more, except for that time."

"One of the lower ranking guys tried working out a deal. He told how the old man and his son split the ' _cargo_ ' up between a couple of boxes and then let the information on each box be leaked in different ways. When that box was confiscated, it told them who the snitch was."

"That means that a lot more boxes and girls got through that they didn't know about," Bucky looked distraught thinking that.

"Yes, but Sherry's group found the information on the other girls. With the evidence from the house, and S.H.I.E.L.D. making sure the warrants were issued, they've been raiding the different sex shops for two days freeing them."

There was an audible sigh of relief from Bucky hearing that.

"Star will be so happy to hear that," his friend said coming over to her.

The different machines hooked up to her had a low steady pulsing noise to them. The swelling over the different areas of her face had gone down, while leaving behind discoloration in the form of dark purple and yellow splotches from the bruising that would remain for a few more days. When her family got here, at least they will be able to partially recognize her.

"Star's going to be here over a week at least. When you're ready to go home, I'll give you a ride," he told him.

"Star told me that first night that I went to her house that I would always have a home wherever you or she was. So, until she's ready to leave here, this is my new home."

"Fine, but if you want, my couch will be there if that chair gets too uncomfortable and you don't want to be alone," he told him as he exited the room to go deal with more paperwork from the raid.

After only a few steps into the hall, Bucky called out, "Can I use the yellow blanket?"

Steve pursed his lip to stop the wide smile that threatened to form as he kept on walking. Hearing Bucky say that, Steve felt that the overpowering anger that had been brought out in the basement seemed to finally be gone, and that his friend was once again in full control.


	63. Visiting Time

**Song: _Peace_ by Apocalyptica**

* * *

"Sergeant," Bucky heard from the doorway, recognizing Fury's voice. "Lucy's family is at the front gate."

"I'm not actually a sergeant anymore," he said standing from the same chair he'd been in all day...well, the past three days. The only time he had left was to go raid Steve's locker for a normal button-down long sleeve shirt, not wanting to wear that hideous thing to meet her family. Now he owed Steve a blanket _and_ a lock...but Steve'd done that one to himself, Bucky figured.

"Technically, you _are_ since you were listed as MIA," Fury informed him as they walked out of the room. "With what happened to you, I'm working to have you listed as a POW for the last 69 years. The paperwork will take a few more days, but your status as an alive American citizen will be reinstated, along with your back pay."

"Back pay?" he asked as they stepped into the elevator. "You want to pay me for murdering all of those people for Hydra?"

"I _want_ to pay a soldier who the country thought gave his life to defend freedom, was taken prisoner and tortured, then brainwashed to force him to act against his own nature. I did the same for Steve after he woke up."

"It doesn't feel right."

"Steve said the same thing, but he kept the money and so will you. Now you can buy your girl something nice."

Bucky had to smile at hearing that as the doors opened to the lobby. Sherry was sitting off to the side with a much older woman while the man he guessed was David tried to keep a very young girl seated while she was determined to see the large S.H.I.E.L.D. eagle emblem in the center of the lobby. He stepped out of the elevator while Fury stayed inside. Bucky turned to him, expecting him to meet the family but it seemed that was beyond his curiosity.

"Here," Fury said handing him a S.H.I.E.L.D. security key-card that would give him the probably the same access to the building as Steve. "Have fun."

With the doors then closing in his face, Bucky grew very worried. Turning back around, he saw that Sherry was now standing, having seem him leave the elevator, catching the entire group's attention. Starting to walk towards them, he saw the small girl finally manage to break from David, running right for him. Not knowing what to do, he stopped as she barely managed to not slam into his leg.

"I know you!" she looked up at him with a gaped-tooth smile.

"You do?" he asked curious as to how she would while seeing the group moving slowly towards them.

"Auntie Lu showed me a picture of you on her phone. She said you were traveling."

"Yeah, I was but I'm here now," he told her as the others reached them. Putting his left hand casually behind him, he offered his right, "Hi there. I'm James."

"Hello, I'm David Trencher, Lucy's brother. This is Sandra, her mother. And Sara, my granddaughter," he introduced them as they all shook hands. Taking the girl's hand. "You can take us to Lucy?"

"Yes, she's upstairs in the medical wing," he said as he indicated the elevator.

"Is there a _reason_ that my daughter is in this place and not a _real_ hospital?" Sandra asked sounding either angry or haughty. Maybe it was a bit of both.

"Sandra, I told you. That's classified because of the case," Sherry offered as they stepped inside the elevator.

"I've been saying since she got that job that…"

"Mom, please. Not now," David offered trying to stop the comment and any that would follow. It seemed to work for the moment. Bucky could guess how the rest of that sentence would have gone.

When the doors opened, he led them down the hallway, stopping when they rounded the corner to find Steve standing at Star's door. As Steve turned towards the group, Bucky knew that this was going to take a few moments to get past their shock. There was not a lot of reason for them to recognize him, but Captain America? Of course they did. Steve took a few steps towards them.

"Um…I guess I should introduce Steve Rogers," Bucky tried to keep the amused sound from his voice.

Offing his hand, Steve greeted them, "It's nice to meet all of you."

"I don't believe it," David's eyes were wide with wonder. Sherry must not have mentioned that Star had a famous friend or two.

"What are you doing _here_?" Sandra plainly asked not sounding impressed at all with meeting Captain America. Only Sara didn't seem to know who Steve was, probably because he was out of uniform.

"I'm a friend of Lucy's," he told them. "I stop by a couple of times during the day to check on her."

Steve then turned to face Bucky, knowing that he was also checking in on him without admitting to it aloud.

"I should tell you what to expect from Lucy's condition," Bucky realized a bit late thinking about what Star looked like lying in the bed, getting them to look at him. "She is hooked up to a lot of equipment, mostly for monitoring her vitals. Right now, the doctors are keeping her in a coma on purpose, so she's sleeping and can't wake up," he added the last part specifically for Sara.

"How badly was she injured?" David asked. "They said we couldn't know how she was hurt, only that she was."

"Her arm is in a cast, and her face is bruised up, along with most of her body. Her back took the worst part so she has to stay laying on her sides."

"David, do you want me to keep Sara out here while you and Sandra go in?" Sherry offered.

"I want to see Auntie Lu!" Sara pronounced firmly while stomping her foot. David looked at him for help.

"How about letting David and Sandra see Auntie Lu first? Then, if they think it is alright, you can go in," he offered as a way out for David.

"Fine!" Sara huffed out crossing her arms and giving the cutest pout he had ever seen.

Leading them the final few steps, he heard an audible gasp from both of them when they actually saw Star. Steve hung back by the door, leaning on it. Bucky had asked the nurses to turn her so that she faced the door, hiding her injured back even though it was covered with the bandages and bed sheet. Her mother took a few steps over, placing her hand on Star's face for a second before drawing it back as if she'd been burned.

"I _knew_ it!" she started to say. "I _knew_ that this would happen with that _damn_ job of hers. She couldn't just stay at home and be happy. No. She _had_ to go out and try and fight bad guys and _this_ is what it has gotten her."

"Mom, _please_. Lucy may be in a coma but she can _probably_ hear you. She _doesn't_ need your negativity right now," David told her firmly.

Bucky moved to the side of the room, closer to the window, already starting to understand the warning that Sherry had given them.

"What do you _expect_? _Look_ at her," she pointed at Star still form, tubes with nourishing fluids in them on both arms, an oxygen mask covering her lower face to help her breathe. " _This_ does not happen with a _normal_ job. _You've_ never ended up in a hospital almost dead, and neither has your _sister_. But Lucy just wouldn't stop! She _had_ to become an agent! She _had_ to go to college! She _had_ to go to that damn concert!"

" _Mom_!" David now yelled, drawing the attention of a nurse passing by outside. Steve nodded to her that everything was fine and she continued on. Dropping his voice to a normal tone, " _None_ of what happened to her back then was _her fault_."

" _Everything_ that has happened is _her fault_!" Sandra firmly stated. "She took off that night, sneaking out of a _damn_ window. For years we had to tell people that she'd run away. And then finding out that she ended up in communist Russia of all the _damn_ places as a sex slave. Do you even understand how _embarrassing_ that is?"

"Embarrassing?"

Both of them turned to look at him as he spoke for the first time, having forgotten that Bucky was in the room. But all of his focus was on the woman who dared to say anything bad about Star.

"Do you have any idea of the _pain_ and _suffering_ and _torture_ that she went through for all of those years? She could have just as easily shut down to the entire world, turning in a scared victim too afraid to step a foot outside for fear of that happening again. The fact that she was able to come home and start over, to make so much _good_ come from her life after living in that horrible world for so long is a _miracle_ …something that you should be _proud_ of. Yet you only want to focus on what others _thought of you?_ "

Sandra was focused on him and he could see something in her that he most assuredly knew...there was a darkness there. Sandra then stood up straight.

" _Life_? What kind of _life_ does she have? Thirty years she's been alone, slowing turning into a useless spinster. Sleeping with those horrible men whose jobs were to hurt others. Only _once_ has she _almost_ managed to land her a _decent man_ to take care of her. If she had only kept her mouth shut until after the wedding then maybe Eric could have eventually dealt with her _deformity_."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Steve straighten up, waiting for a fight…and not a verbal one.

"What deformity?" he needed her to say it.

"She was spayed like a common dog. What real man wants a woman that can't provide him with children? Is she even still considered a female?"

His eyes narrowed, and Bucky pulled from all his Hydra conditioning to help control the heated emotions about to boil over in him at hearing that. He'd heard those words before and he hated them now just as much as he did then...when Star had said them about herself. But now, he began to understand _where_ they had come from.

" _Spinster_? _Deformity_? _You!"_ he pointed his metal finger accusingly at Star's mother, " _You_ are the one who put those _damn_ _stupid_ ideas into her head. Those weren't _her words_...they were _yours_! _That's_ why she _kept_ worrying about me _leaving_ her for someone else and about _having_ kids. Her mind has been _poisoned_ by a _demented woman_ who should have loved her _unconditionally!"_ he paused for a few angry breaths. _"_ If I ever hear even a _hint_ of those words coming out of your mouth towards Star again, I will make sure that you _never_ see her again! If you thought those _other_ men were horrible, then you are in for a _shock_ when you learn about _me!_ And trust me when I say that no matter what the hell you eventually think of me, I _am_ going to be here for Star from now on! _Especially_ if that means I have to protect her from you!"

Dropping his voice as cold as he could make it _and_ with a tone that left _no chance_ at being argued with, "Get the _fuck_ out of here!"

Sandra's lips slightly parted, as if she were about to say something, but instead she held her chin up, turned with a huff and left the room. Steve moved out of her way otherwise she looked to be ready to plow into him. For the next minute, only the sound of the monitors' beeping was heard as the three of them all calmed down.

"I'm sorry about my mom. She has no angel on her shoulder to guide her when it comes to…well, everything," David tried apologizing for the rudest woman he had ever come across over ninety-seven years. "When she told me that she wanted to come see LSD I thought that she was going to behave herself."

"LSD?" Steve asked from the doorway.

"My nickname for Lucy since we were little. Mom and dad hated it," David gave them a knowing smile as he stepped over to touch Star's hand. He held on to it. "There's an old Beatles song called _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_ that became associated with the drug LSD. The initials are taken from the song. It's her favorite song due to her name being in the title. It's also where her tattoo comes from."

"The pink star," Bucky answered remembering their conversations.

"I'm guessing by your comments just now that you know about her tattoo?" David asked with a bit of a smile.

"Seen it many times," he decided to hint.

David then turned back to look at Star as he held her hand.

Speaking to Star, "I know you probably heard mom, but you and I know that she can shove those type of thoughts up her ass. She's made your life miserable and I'm sorry I brought her…especially when you can't defend yourself."

David then looked over at him and added, "But it seems that you have at least one friend who's not scared of the old bat."

"As you probably can tell, he's not _just_ a friend," Steve offered up with a grin.

"Star and I have been together…since…" he had to take a breath and figure this out, "for a classified amount of time."

That really got David's eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"Do you work for the F.B.I. also?" he asked him.

"No, I guess you can say that I work for the new S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, if you can stand up to my mom and defend LSD from her, then I'm extremely glad to meet you James."

Behind Steve came a strange noise as Sara managed to run into the room without looking, this time actually running into his leg. She looked up at him and then her grandfather knowing that she was in trouble for not waiting in the hall.

"Sara, what are you..." David started to ask before Sara told him...

"GreatGram was trying to make me leave with her, but I don't want to! I want to see Auntie Lu!" she looked to be very upset at the idea of leaving.

Her eyes then turned to the bed and he could only watch as the tears actually did start to build up in them. David reached down and picked her up to comfort her.

"Sara, Auntie Lu is going to be fine. She's sleeping right now but she can't wake up until she's a bit better," David explained to her.

Her face puckered for a few moments as she held in the tears, before telling them, "That's not Auntie Lu."

"Yes, it is, sweetie," David said.

"No, Poppy. Her hair is short. That's not Auntie Lu."

Between the hair and the bruising on her face, Sara didn't recognize her. Reaching over, Bucky pulled the collar of the hospital gown down so that Sara could see the tattoo remembering that Star mentioned she liked seeing it.

"Then where is her hair?" Sara asked with quivering lips, now convinced that it was Auntie Lu.

David looked over at him for an explanation.

"A bad man cut her hair. He's the one who hurt her," he figured she needed to hear at least that.

"Why did he hurt her?" Sara then asked.

Bucky took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to scare her. He answered, "She was trying to have the bad men and his bad friends put in jail. They hurt her to stop her. But we caught them. And in a week or so, after a long sleep, your Auntie Lu can wake up."

"Then I'll stay here until she does!" Sara offered up sounding very sure that she could.

"Sara, we'll have to see what you parents say about that. But if we can work it out, you can be here when she wakes up. Auntie Lu would love to see you."

"Alright, Poppy."

"Poppy?" Steve amusingly asked.

"Yes. We grew up around a lot ' _flower children_ ' in the sixties. Since I gave _her_ a drug nickname, LSD thought it would be funny for _me_ to have one as well, so since the moment they learned to talk, she told my grand-kids to call me Poppy since opium comes from the poppy flower."

It was the first time in days that they'd had a reason to laugh.

* * *

There was a thickness in her mind that was holding her down.

At first, Star couldn't tell if she was awake or asleep, but then realized to even think _that_ then she must be awake…or at least semi-conscious. Instead of still hanging, she was lying on her right side. The sounds emanating from around her were _not_ what she expected to be hearing.

It was just so wrong to hear Elvis singing when you are about to die.

Her mouth was very dry so she swished her tongue around to wet it. That was when she felt the thing covering her face. Tommy must have put the tape back over her mouth again so that she could not scream. She tried to reach up, wanting to take it off so that he had to listen to the screams but her left arm would not budge. It was not moving like she was telling it to. Then she remembered that it was broken. But at least it didn't hurt as much as it had a little while ago. She then tried to stretch out a bit, her entire body feeling a bit stiff.

What had Tommy done to her? What was he about to do to her?

That was when the warming sensation on her back started. It reminded her of when she had gone to the beach years ago and gotten a sunburn on her arms. She was lying on her side and trying to move her right arm irritated the dull pain into a deep constant burn. Feeling something behind her, she pushed what felt like a pillow away from her backside. Her breathing became heavier as she tried to get her eyes to open but the moment they parted a sliver she saw that it was still dark. Something was making her eyes start to sting and water up.

If it was dark, then maybe Tommy was gone for a bit to sleep. Maybe that was why she was lying down, it was nighttime. Star knew she needed to get out of here before he got back. Moving her feet around, she could tell that they were no longer secured. He had released her, probably thinking she was unable to escape.

Star knew that she was lying down on something not concrete due to the slightly softer material. Twisting her body a bit, she was determined to try and stand up but her muscles were too weak to support herself, causing her to fall over. With her back contacting the surface, that was when the burning sensation cascaded throughout her entire body, causing her to scream from the sharp pain of impact before passing out.

* * *

Bucky was jolted awake by the sound of Star screaming out. Jumping up from the chair he had been sleeping in and turning on the light over her, he found her still lying in the bed. But he could tell that she had tried to move. Somehow she had managed push the pillow holding her upright to the floor before rolling from her side onto her back. Touching the bed with her still tender new skin had been painful enough to cause her to cry out.

"Star, can you hear me?" he quietly asked, gently touching her forehead and running his hand back over her hair. He did this a few times, waiting for any sign of her finally being awake, but nothing ever happened. Only a single scream before she fell back unconscious. That was when he noticed the tears running from her eyes.

Moments later, a nurse came into the room and began to check the now loudly beeping monitors. He reached over to the small table where the iPhone playing Elvis was still going and turned it off. Sam had brought it to him and showed him how to get songs and make playlists. He'd asked the doctor if having the songs going for Star would be good. He told Bucky that considering what the last thing she probably was going to remember would be, that hearing something calming and familiar might help to ease her some so she knew that she was safe. They said with her condition, she may not remember seeing him in the basement or may have thought it a dream.

They had taken her off of the drug keeping her asleep at lunchtime while leaving the oxygen mask on for now, but the doctor said it may still be hours or a few days before she woke up on her own. It was very late, well after midnight, and he had eventually fallen asleep. He had not been there for her when she had woken for those few moments.

What had she tried to do? What had she been thinking?

* * *

Star felt like she was underwater, that there was pressure all over her body, keeping her from moving…from understanding where she was. Running her tongue around her dry mouth, she felt the thing over her face and suddenly it all came back to her.

She was still in Tommy's workshop.

Her muscles tensed up as the memory of the last time she was awake came back to her. If she passed out again without escaping from here, she may never wake up again. Not knowing if she was alone, Star tried to carefully move parts of her body so that Tommy would not know that she was awake and resume his work on her back.

The worst part was that he seemed to be an Elvis fan, recalling hearing a different song however long ago she had woken the first time. That was just so depressing.

Trying to move her arms, she had an easier time with her right one. Something heavy was holding her left one down but it didn't feel like the handcuffs. No matter what, it was broken and there was no way she was going to be able to use it to escape.

But the second that her right one started to move, something cold clamped down onto it.

Tommy knew she was awake, and Star panicked.

Crying out in fear as she tried to struggle, her breathing becoming shallow pants as the slow burning sensation on her back began to heat over her entire body, threatening to make her pass out again.

"Star, I need you to calm down and stop moving."

Star? Tommy didn't know that name.

And she recognized that voice.

Scary.

Doing as he asked, her breathing became easier as she tried to pry her eyes open. Her lids were heavy, as if she was extremely tired and the light hurt her eyes, but eventually she caught her first glimpse of Scary looming next to her. A calmness swept through her body at just the sight of him, making her feel better. Star was pretty sure that this time seeing him was not an illusion. It felt too real.

"Hey there, Doll," he was smiling at her while running his hand over her forehead. "You need to lay still. You are in the medical wing and you are safe."

Looking past Scary, Star could see the white walls and medical equipment surrounding the bed she was in. Just past the sound of Elvis' voice, the steady beep of a heart monitor could be heard. There was only one way that she was still alive and not in that basement. Reconnecting their eyes, Star could see relief filling his.

"You…came…for…me?" she managed to whisper out understanding that the item over her mouth was for oxygen.

Releasing her hand, Scary touched her cheek with his metal hand, and as she leaned into his cool touch, he told her, "I'll always come for you. You will always be mine."

That was when she began to cry.


	64. Epilogue: Together At Last

**Song: _We've Got Tonight_ by Bob Seger (Star & Scary's Song)**

* * *

A while later, Bucky sat in the chair still holding her hand after helping Star into a sitting position before a doctor and nurse came into the room and began to examine her. They asked a lot of question about how she felt and the level of pain she was experiencing, to which she gave small answers since Star seemed as if she were still trying to wake up. He was glad to hear that overall the medication was easing any severe pain he knew was still there. The doctor told her they would keep her on it for a few more days now that she was awake.

During the quick explanation of the different procedures they had to do on her, Star began to recall _all_ of the things that Tommy had done. He had been the one to calm her down again as a small panic attack came on as the memories began to wash over her. Thanks to Sam trying to help with his own, he knew what to do. There was no mistaking the terror in her eyes from what she had gone through, and it hurt him inside that he had not been there to stop it.

At her request, he climbed onto the bed to be closer to her. Star had wrapped herself around him, squeezing tightly as if to prevent him from leaving as well as to keep her safe. But she was strong and had already been through so much, so he had no doubt that she would recover, especially with him there beside her to help this time.

After the doctor left, trying to make her feel a bit better, he teased her, "When you told me to come home, I guess I needed to make it clear that I expected you to be there for me."

"I'll remember that next time, Scary," she softly said while smiling up at him, intertwining her fingers with his silver ones. How delicate they looked, easily touching him without fear.

Not long after, Star had fallen asleep nestled against him. Even for sleeping for so long, her body was using a lot of its energy to heal. Instead of moving back to his chair, which would disturb her, Bucky just continued to lay there with his Star resting against him. It was during this time that he sent Steve the long awaited text that she was finally awake.

Bucky knew that Steve had been right.

He didn't want anyone else to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare. He knew that no matter what, there was no way he would ever leave her again.

Sleeping for almost an hour, after waking up and still trying to process what had happened to her, Star finally ask, "How long have I been here?"

"Eleven days," he told her still holding her, running his fingers through her shortened hair. "The doctors kept you in a coma to keep the pain from you. What you still feel is only a small piece of how bad it would have been."

"Tommy has always been good at his job," she sighed.

"Not anymore he won't be," making sure to sound firm with that statement, as Star lifted an eyebrow towards him.

"Did you kill him?" she asked sounding hopeful.

"No."

"Fuck," she stated before giving him a devious smile, "Is it too late for me to put in a request?"

"Just say the word and by tonight…"

"He'll still be asleep in his cell!" Steve's amused voice sounded from the doorway.

Turning her head a bit, they saw the smile that was actually on Steve's face at hearing her request.

"Spoilsport," she mumbled while leaning her head back onto his chest as Steve made his way into the room carrying the lunch that either he or Sam had been bring him from the commissary daily. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone for as long as it would take to go get the food. "What's the point of having an assassin as a boyfriend if he can't do favors for you?"

"Technically, he doesn't do that anymore," Steve offered coming to stand by her. Steve got a smile on his face, then asked, "Feel like a visitor. She's been _very anxious_ for you to wake up."

Star didn't seem to even guess who was about to come through that door, probably imagining Sherry as she answered, "Sure, why not?"

He then began to untangle himself from beside and underneath Star wanting to be able to see what was about to happen. She looked disappointed at not being able to keep touching him. Steve handed him the bag of food once he was upright.

"Come on in," Steve called out towards the hall once Bucky was back in the chair right next to her.

Seconds later, a small bundle of energy in pink ran into the room, only stopping when she impacted the side of the bed.

"Surprise, Auntie Lu!" Sara grinned up at Star with a wide smile.

"Sara!" she carefully reached over to hug her, looking at Scary and Steve for an answer before David walked in the door.

"LSD, about time you finally woke up. If I didn't know better, I would think that you were ignoring us," he told her as he took her hand into his.

"Never," she said as Steve helped Sara up onto the bed so she could sit with her. "You've been here the whole time?"

"I think so," Sara answered, pulling at her shorter hair. "Poppy and me have been staying at your house. I've been sleeping in your big bed."

"I hope that you don't mind," David inquired, "but when Sara's parents gave the ok for her to stay with me until you woke up, being in a hotel for that long would have been unbearable."

"Not a problem. I'm glad that you were able to stay," she looked at Sara and poked her stomach, getting a giggle.

Star looked over at him.

"Where were you during all of this?" she asked.

"Right here the entire time," he admitted to her. "Steve and Sam bring me actual food and a change of clothes daily."

"That explains the shirt," she reached over and tugged at the collar of his shirt. "I was wondering why you were dressed like orange sherbet. I thought for a moment that my color vision was a bit out of whack."

"Nope," Steve grinned, handing him the bag. "It's just my subtle way of getting revenge."

"We're going to stay just a few more days now that you are awake," David told her. "Do you remember any of us talking while you were sleeping?"

"No, I don't think so. When I woke, I still thought…" she paused for a moment as she looked at Sara, "…it was that same day."

David nodded in understanding, even if Sara didn't.

"Well, so you know, Mom did come up with us."

"She did? Where is she?"

There was no mistaking the look that the three if them gave at that question before David and Steve focused onto him. Star then turned her gaze to him for the answer.

"She decided to go home after that first day," he then sheepishly told her, getting a look of curiosity from her. "I _may have insinuated_ that she was not welcomed here."

"Mom started to go off on one of her usual rants about you and your job. Then she moved on to your past. Bucky didn't care too much for what she said. By the end of his comments, he told her to get the fuck out, and LSD, that's _exactly_ what she did. It was _so nice_ to see someone put her in her place. I wish I had it on video for you," she hadn't seen David smile that wide in a long time.

"Poppy said a bad word!" Sara was pointing at her grandfather.

"I'm old...I'm allowed to," he told her bopping her nose with his fingertip.

They had been talking for a little bit longer when a nurse brought her in a tray of lunch. Steve, David, and Sara decided to go down to the commissary and get lunch together and told them they would be back up later.

The three of them had been spending most of the days together trying to keep Sara occupied by going to parks, playgrounds, and museums. By now, they were running out of attractions to keep her occupied with. He gave the two of them a brake and Sara stayed with him for a few days playing board games Sam supplied starting with when Steve and David had wanted to go to the Aerospace Museum, somewhere Sara had refused to set foot in.

"This is horrible," Star said only a few sips into the flavored broth. There was also yogurt, overcooked pasta, and applesauce. Star then started to eyeball his own lunch. He saw her glance towards the hall to make sure no nurses were around before requesting, "Sneak me a couple of fries."

"You need to eat what the doctor thinks you can handle. You've been in a coma for eleven days."

"This," she said pointing at the tray, "is a form of torture, and I think that I can do without any more of that in my life."

Sighing but glad that she was feeling well enough to joke about the ordeal, he continued to pass Star fries but only after he made her agree to eat everything else on the tray.

* * *

"That was Natasha," Scary called out to her from the kitchen where he was making them lunch after hanging up the phone. "She on the way over."

"Does this mean that I will finally get to find out where she's been hiding at?" Star joked as she lay on the couch watching Scary fix them sandwiches. He had become very proficient over the past few days with meal times since she had finally been allowed to come home. She pointed out that a cast did not make her helpless but he had gone into overprotective mode and there was nothing to do about it but enjoy.

"Yes."

She waited for more of an explanation but it seemed that none was forthcoming. David had found the attention given to her very amusing, while Sara kept handing Scary things to crush with his hand…coins had been her favorite since they were easy to get a hold of. Sara had taken home a small bag filled with new shaped items when she and David had left yesterday.

Sara had gone with her to the salon to have Caroline fix the remains of her hair. When she had walked in, all of the women had rushed over to find how what had happened. Fury had given instructions on how much could be told in public. Caroline looked distraught as she listened, then got to work straighten out the edges. It now rested just touching her shoulders, all of it one length. Scary even seemed to like it as he was able to run his fingers through it. Maybe she would consider growing it out again, but she already liked the easier washing and quicker nighttime ritual of the reduced length.

Not long after they began eating, Nat arrived and Scary opened the door for her while looking extremely eager. Star managed to get through a few minutes of pleasantries out of the way before her curiosity got to be too much.

"So, care to tell me what is going on since this one here," jamming her finger into Scary's arm, "refuses to?"

"Bucky asked for my help with a project. So, for the past two weeks, I've been dealing with bureaucratic red tape…in Moscow."

Hearing that, it was far beyond any of the wild ideas she had come up with.

"Why would you be there?"

"It turns out," Scary started, "that Natasha found all the hand-written journals the O'Connells kept for their high-end clients since Fintan was running the family. She told the analysts going through them to be on the lookout for a particular name."

"Mine?" she asked.

"Not exactly," Nat offered. "Yuri Kozlov."

"And you found it?" she asked.

"Yes. And this is what we found," Nat then pulled the journal from her bag, opening it to a marked page. It took a moment for her to understand what the three names, cities, and dates that were listed next to her own meant.

"Ruby Harris, Cincinnati, 1967. Jackie Clark, Pittsburgh, 1972. Grace Moore, Charlotte, 1975. This is them?" she asked hearing her voice crack. "You found their real names."

"Not only that, but the project that I've been working on is that I finally managed to gain custody of their remains now that we had proof that they were _not_ Russian citizens. Their records showed their bodies were still in the police storage warehouse, where they've been sitting since 1984. It took three days of searching but we finally found them. As of right now, they are at the Triskelion. I had an analyst run searches for missing girls with those names, cities, and dates, she was able to locate their families."

Star knew that the tears were about to fall.

"They can finally be put to rest," Scary told her as she stared at the names again.

Reaching around, she grabbed onto both of their necks pulling them into hugs, Scary's a bit more awkward thanks to the cast. She had never actually believed that this would really be happening. After they indulged her for a few moments, she wiped the tears from her eyes, as she kept looking over the names.

"I always wondered where Kozlov had gotten their pet names, and now it makes sense."

"It does?" Nat asked. "The police boxes were marked with the pet names on them but we were planning on running DNA samples from relatives to confirm their identities."

"I'm pretty sure I'm right though. Ruby was Jewel. Jackie was Lady. And Grace was Princess."

"How do you know?" Scary asked.

"Because _I_ remember history," she joked with him, jabbing her elbow into his side. "Ruby is easy. Grace was for _Princess_ Grace of Monaco, one of Kozlov's favorite actresses. Jackie should be for First _Lady_ Jackie Kennedy, wife of J.F.K."

Hearing that, Scary's eyes went wide from recognizing that name.

"What?" Nat asked looking at his expression.

"What do you know of conspiracy theories?" she grinned at her.

* * *

After so many years, only three of the six parents was still alive, and they were late eighties to nineties. Even though some of the parents had died never knowing what had become of their daughters, at least the girls were no longer just sitting forgotten on a shelf.

During the funerals, there were also siblings and more distant relatives who had attended to learn what had happened to their missing family member. All of the families were open with their little known stories, but they did leave out the actual cause of death, which the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical examiner had been able to confirm as the ax. She had also been right about their identities when they got the DNA tests back.

While she had been here, Sara had somehow managed to talk her into letting her draw all over the cast. Now, it was covered in hearts, flowers, and stars everywhere. She'd covered it in a cut black sock to be a bit more dignified during the funerals.

Steve, Sam, and Nat had gone with them to all three funerals, making it a very memorable week long trip. After the first night in a hotel room, Steve had requested that his room not be directly next to hers and Scary's due to their ' _loud nocturnal activities_ '. She'd teased Steve about his voyeurism at catching them together in his bedroom, causing Nat to actually laugh while Sam quickly turned around and walk away from all of them.

It was now a couple of days since they had returned home and Scary finally said that she was recouped enough to be allowed to go with him for the ' _too strenuous_ ' morning run with Steve and Sam. Last night she had threatened to shoot him if he didn't stop coddling her. And she had thought it was nice originally...

"So, are you planning on going back to work soon?" Sam asked her as they slowly jogged their normal route. Steve and Bucky had taken off not long ago.

"Actually, I've been considering finally retiring."

"Really?" Sam asked her.

"I've been with the Bureau for over twenty-five years, since right after college."

"Sometimes I forget how old you are," he joked, earning a soft punch in his arm as she reached across with her uninjured one.

"I'm going to have Nat sneak into you place and dye your hair gray," she threatened.

"Ain't nothing that can spoil these good looks! It would probably make me look distinguished," he grinned.

"Well, something needs to," she teased back, earning her a narrow eyed sneer from him.

"You would actually consider retiring?"

"I've been wanting to take down the O'Connells for years. It was the one thing I hoped to accomplish, and as it turns out, with a bit of pain and help, I did."

Sam seemed to consider her words as they quietly ran for a bit.

"Have you mentioned this to Bucky?"

"Not yet. With the way he's been hovering over me, I'm not sure how he will take it. Either he'll be happy that I'll no longer be doing anything dangerous _or_ he'll think that I'm just using it as an excuse to hide some pain and/or mental trauma."

"How are you doing with what happened?" he asked her carefully. It was nice to have someone concerned about her.

"Overall, I'm fine," which earned her a ' _I doubt that_ ' look from Sam. "I dealt with so much thanks to Kozlov that even with what he did, Tommy's actions were just pain, not even in league with the mental trauma I've put behind me. I still get bad dreams, thanks to both of them, but now Scary is there for me when I wake up from them."

That gave Sam something to think about for a while before he continued on by asking...

"So what would you do if you did retire? Sit around _knitting_ all day?"

"You're about to find yourself _in_ that reflecting pool," she pointed at it. "And I have no idea what I would do. I never thought that it would actually happen so I never planned ahead."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much," Sam told her as they almost reached the end of the wood trail. "You never know what the future may bring."

Star looked over at him staring straight ahead with some strange knowing smile plastered on his face. Turning off of the trail, she was enjoying the sunrise across the pool when she noticed they were heading towards Steve and Bucky who were talking with Nat. They were standing together with their backs towards them at the end of the pool in the exact same spot where they had met after so long of being apart. Coming up next to them, she and Sam stopped to see what they were doing.

"Finally use up all of that energy?" she asked them.

"Not exactly," Steve said turning towards her. He had a similar strange smile that Sam did.

When Scary turned around, the name for the emotion that she would be able to use right then was scared…maybe worried, hopeful, nervous, and excited would also work. As she went to ask him what was wrong, she saw him fiddling with something in his hand…a small black box. She'd seen similar ones many times before. He took her hand to lead her a few feet from the others.

"Star," Scary's voice pulled her eyes back up to his face. Then he began in Russian, "{For far too long, my life has been nothing but a series of dark tragedies heading towards painful nothingness before fading to cold loneliness. But somehow in the middle of a life of evil deeds, there was a brief moment when I had a guide towards a glimpse of happiness. My Star. I promised thirty years ago to come back to you and there was a lot of suffering along the way, but I finally was able to keep that promise to you. I know that I said it then, and even more recently, but Star…you are mine. And I plan on proving it to you.}"

"{There is a darkness that still resides in me, and I do not believe that it will ever truly go away. But I know that out of everyone else alive, you are the guiding star who had always been able to shine to see through that darkness and never be afraid of me. I don't know if my darkness will dampen your light, and it may be selfish of me to do this…but I will never let you go.}"

The box in his hand opened and inside was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. It was a classic large round pink diamond flanked by two smaller diamonds on a silver band. As Scary removed it from the box, he carefully took her injured left hand and slipped it on without a word. Speechless, she could only lift her hand to get a better look at the ring. And when she did, Star noticed that the cut of the pink diamond formed a star pattern through the stone. That was when she became aware of him dropping to his knee before her.

"{Lucinda Star Trencher, would you do me the honor of _finally_ becoming my wife?}"

Even knowing that the question was coming, hearing it actually spoken aloud made her eyes water up. Scary was looking up at her with that smile that always made her go weak in the knees and this time was no exception. Bending over, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he latched onto her waist.

"{Yes, Scary. I will.}"

* * *

Scary had been driving for a few hours and by now she would probably be bored, but not today since it was her first day as Mrs. Lucinda Barnes. She kept glancing at the wedding band next to her engagement ring. Smooth, shiny platinum to match Scary's arm with a single star shaped cut red diamond embedded into the band. Scary had pointed out that he wanted to make sure that there was no question as to whom she belonged to. She could only smile at his possessive nature coming through, and she didn't mind it at all.

The wedding had actually gone off without a hitch, even with it being on a very tight timeline. Her mother, of course, disapproved of the date both her and Scary had easily agreed on…Halloween. It only seemed fitting that they start a new life on the same day they they had left an old one. Luckily by then, her arm was finally out of that itchy cast.

When Scary had asked her what she had always dreamed her wedding to be like, she had admitted that after one failed engagement that she gave up and didn't want what she had wanted then. So since most of her family still lived around Savannah, and he didn't have any, they agreed to a chapel on the beach at sunset. Steve had been the best man with Sherry as the maid of honor. Sara had been the flower girl. Both of them had worn pink dresses...with Sherry's being the most unflattering as she could find. Sherry had loved it, having just as weird sense of humor as she did some times.

The most amazing part of her ordeal had been when she finally got a good look at her backside...once the skin had fully healed and the redness had gone away. Between removing the damaged tissue and whatever special thing that Fury had let the doctors use on her, it had helped to grow the new skin smoother than it had previously been. None of the deep ruts were there anymore, looking almost normal as if nothing had ever happened to her. It still had a barely rougher texture to the touch, but compared to the damage that Kozlov had done, it was a vastly great improvement.

So much so that she had gone with an A-line sleeveless corset top dress...disappointing her mom by showing off the few burn wounds visible on the backsides of her arms. But Scary had no problem with them and _he_ was the _only one_ that mattered.

Scary had to point out very late last night that he couldn't trace the scar lines with his tongue anymore and would have to find somewhere else to occupy his tongue. She had given him a few lewd suggestions...each one bringing a smile to his face as he tried them out.

Continuing to drive them to wherever he had chosen for their honeymoon, every so often to get her attention, Scary would use his fingers to jingle the charms of her bracelet. Steve had told her about him finding it and having it fixed while she was in the hospital. Scary had put it back on for her not long after all the tubes came out of her arms.

Feeling the car slow, Scary turned them off of the road that he'd been on for some time and Star noticed they were heading down a long dirt drive surrounded by trees. Sitting up a bit better, she didn't see any sign of other houses but they had just passed through a small town not long back.

"Where exactly are you taking us?" she asked again, hoping for an answer this time.

"You couldn't wait ten more seconds?" Scary grinned at her.

Up ahead, the trees parted to reveal a small cabin-style house. Her mind was thrown back to long ago when they'd had something so similar. Stopping the car, they got out as he came around and took her hand.

"I had Natasha help me find a small, out of the way place for us to stay at for the next ten days. Only this one doesn't require a generator _and_ has food delivery."

She couldn't help but laugh. Walking up to the cabin, Scary unlocked and swung the door open wide. When she went to step inside, he grabbed a hold of her and swept her up off of her feet.

"It's bad luck for the bride to walk in, and we need all the good luck we can get," he pointed out.

Nestling into his arms, she wrapped her own around his neck while giving him a kiss. With their lips still locked together, Scary's strong arms moved her to body so they were instead chest to chest with her legs wrapped around his waist. Feeling his hardness pressing against her as she began to grind on him, Star barely noticed as they went inside and Scary slammed the door closed behind them with his foot.

_The End!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So I hope that this met with your approval. Considering that I had zero ideas on how to go about a sequel when I wrote the first part, I'm very happy with how this came out.
> 
> I know that the trauma Star suffered with her back may have sounded harsh at first, but I wanted to give her something back...a bit of outer beauty (even if Scary didn't mind it to begin with).
> 
> So they finally have their happily ever after. I would love to hear from you as to what you thought. Thanks for reading!


	65. Alternate Ending: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so after a few request, here is the alternate ending. In this ending, instead of a skin graft, Shield will use a special procedure on Star that will have dramatic effects on her.
> 
> I'm not a medical doctor or in the medical profession in any way, so I ask that you ignore any procedures represented in these next chapters that you know to be wrong. I've tried my best to research and give as close to an account as to what I believe would happen. If I'm wrong...oh, well, chalk it up to sci-fi.
> 
> Most, if not all, changes start where the second song for this chapter is listed. There are parts where I've only inserted small differences, but there are entire new sections too.
> 
> I'm curious as to which ending you as a reader liked better, original or alternate, so please let me know.

**Song: _Animal I Have Become_ by Three Days Grace  
**

* * *

"Steve, you can't let him do this," Sam was saying from behind him as he watched Bucky carry the cursing, struggling criminal into the room they had found Star tortured in. "He's not in his right mind right now. Killing this guy, it may be _too much_ for him to come back from."

Steve knew that Sam was right, but unfortunately…he agreed with Bucky.

He had tortured Star for hours, and it had even sounded as if he'd _enjoyed_ it while talking to the other criminal. Steve had seen the damage to Star's back and it turned his stomach in a way he had never felt before. That evil man had hurt her in a way that no other person should ever hurt another. So what if he died a bit slower than a bullet to the head like his friend had?

"Sam, go with Star and watch out for her. I'll stay with him," he said.

"Stay? Not stop?" Natasha spoke up but it was not judgement that he saw in her eyes. Did she agree?

At that point, knowing what he was about to let happen, he couldn't look at either one of them.

Stepping over to the room, Steve walked inside and closed the door behind them.

* * *

"I'll stay and deal with the clean-up," Natasha told Sam who was still staring at the door containing his friends who were about to kill a man. It wasn't that she didn't agree, but she was shocked that Steve might let it go that far. Nat had seen the hurt in his eyes at seeing what had been physically done to Lucy on top of knowing how much mental damage Bucky was now suffering.

"Stop him if you can, Nat," Sam's voice pleaded with her before he left to follow the medics.

Glancing over at it, she had no intention of opening that door unless it was to hand them a loaded gun. Instead, she made her way back up the stairs to the kitchen which she had come down from. She heard the sound of a Quinjet taking off, getting Lucy to the Triskelion for treatment. The injuries she had received were bad, but Nat had looked over the numerous files on this Tommy. He unfortunately knew what he was doing, and he had brought Lucy to the point of unconsciousness, not at the edge of death. Nat was sure she was going to make it.

Agents had rounded up everyone in the house, holding most of them in the large foyer, handcuffed and looking extremely mad. They never expected to have their private sanctuary invaded as it had been tonight. And definitely not by S.H.I.E.L.D. Passing them by with barely a glance, she entered the office where the two most important prisoners were currently being guarded.

"You'll pay for this," Cormac spat out a her, anger dripping from his voice. "You have no idea who you are dealing with. We have friends in high places."

"Friends? Is that what you call the people you bribe or blackmail?" she calmly asked taking a seat at the large desk. "After tonight, I'm sure that not a single one of them will be returning _any_ of your phone calls."

"Lots of people owe us, and we'll just collect on that debt," the old man, Fentan, told her.

Playing with the glass paperweight that contained a four leaf clover, Nat told them, "You think so? Or is it more likely that they will want to keep their noses clean and stay out of this. It's not like you are going to have access to any of your money, or even files to blackmail them with. In Washington, politicians make empty promises, they don't accept them as payment."

"There are records that they will not want made public," Fentan proudly told her. "They'll do anything we ask to keep them from getting out."

"Records?" now she was curious. She noticed that there was not a computer in this office. Sitting forward in the comfortable chair, she asked, "And how are you going to get to them in jail?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about us," Cormac sneered at her. "Too bad we didn't meet under other circumstances. I know a guy who has a thing for red heads. With a body like that, you would have been top dollar."

Hearing that, Nat's face dropped all hint of emotion. They were too cocky for their own good, but now she knew there was a reason. Spinning in the chair, she looked carefully around the room, spotting the perfect location for what she knew had to be here. Walking over to the painting, she pulled the hinged item away from the safe that it was hiding.

How old school predictable they were.

"Get the fuck away from there," Cormac called out to her. "You have no right to go in there."

"See, that's where you are wrong, again," she informed them starting to work on the simple lock.

She was a bit surprised that they still had such an older model safe to use. This model had been obsolete for over twenty years. They really did feel safe in this location from ever being raided. Pulling the lever, the door swung open to reveal numerous journals. Taking one out she ignored the voices from behind her she scanned the contents.

"Get them out of here," she requested of the guards, "I have some reading to do."

* * *

For most of the time that Steve was in the room, his attention was on the metal barrel he was using to support himself with. He knew that it had been waiting to be used for a sick act. The guy had already put the clothes he had removed from her inside of it. Star's dead body would have been next. Sherry's files said that numerous barrels had been taken from here and never found again. If they hadn't come for her, Star would have simply vanished.

Then Steve began to consider the alternative. If Star had not come to meet him that day, this evil family would have taken her without any of them ever getting to know her. Bucky might have found the files in Siberia to remember Star, but there was a chance that they might not have been enough to bring back those happy memories of the two of them. Even if they had and Bucky had gone looking for her, Star would have just been gone...vanished without a trace. And Bucky would never have known what happened to her. Nobody would have...except for the crying man behind him.

Every so often, when the sound of the man's screams started to get to him, Steve would glance down at Star's hair lying in a pool of her own blood, reminding him why he was there. After hearing the sound of another bone cracking, Steve had to drop his head a bit more over the open barrel. He had long ago lost count of how many times he'd heard that sound.

When Steve opened his eyes, he was now able to see something shiny at the barrel's bottom. Reaching in, Steve pulled out the bracelet that Star wore to symbolize her Scary. The clasp was broken, probably from being yanked from her bound arms, before being discarded into the waiting metal tomb. Running his fingers over the silver disks and red star, he began to see that to the man behind him Star was probably nothing more than trash to be thrown away. Gripping the bracelet in his hand, he tried to calm himself down as his mind raced over the entire situation.

He was just as angry as Bucky was for what the man had done to Star, but Steve also had to take into account what it had done mentally to Bucky on top of it. His friend had been hurt and tortured for years, forced to kill against his will, brainwashed into submission.

And the moment he had finally managed to find a bit of peace and happiness…the screaming man had tried to take that shining light away from him.

Steve knew that the first time his own hands had red on them was from his time during the war. But that was not what people remembered. They remembered the scrawny kid who became a national hero. Not the punk who used to pick fights with bullied twice his size. Not the soldier who shot and killed more Nazi and Hydra agents than he could even count. Some of them had only been following orders. But then there were the others…the evil ones. Just like the man hanging where Star had been just a short time ago.

When the room became quiet for too long, he finally looked over at Bucky while slipping the bracelet into his pocket. Seeing the condition his friend was in, Steve decided he would give it to Bucky later. For now, he would keep it safe.

Bucky had not removed his mask so it only hid the blood splatter that covered the lower part of his face. His arms were splattered with the shiny red substance to match his star. Even his hair had little drips of blood falling every so often. Bucky had not used any of the numerous items or tools available on the workbenches, instead favoring his own brute force.

"Is he dead?" Steve tried to calmly ask while looking at the unrecognizable bloody pulp of a man.

"No, just unconscious."

"Are you done?"

"Yes. I need to see Star."

"We'll have to get you cleaned up first, Bucky."

"Don't call me that."

Steve turned his gaze to his friend's eyes…and found nothing recognizable there.

"That's your name."

"No, it's not," Bucky broke eye contact and looked over at the probably dying man. "You shouldn't have stayed."

"I was not going to leave you alone."

"I shouldn't have let you stay."

"You know that you needed me here. Would you have killed him if I was not here?"

"Yes." There had not been any hesitation with that answer.

"And _that_ is why you let me stay…to be the conscious that you could not have while you chose to punish him for what he did to Star."

Bucky looked over at him with a look in his eyes that was cold.

"Chose? No, he _deserved everything_ I did. Probably more."

"You're right. But now, it's time to go find out about Star."

"Will I get to see her before…" his voice trailed off, not able to finish asking something.

"Before what?"

"Before they lock me away."

Steve walked over to where Bucky was still standing and placed his hand on his shoulder to guide him towards the door. They only made it about a foot before Bucky stopped and bent down. Steve watched as he picked up a handful of Star's long hair, running his fingers over the loose strands covered in her own sticky blood. It had been cut off and tossed to the ground like trash, just as Steve knew how the man saw Star.

"Nobody is going to lock you up."

"They should. He's the proof that I'm still the monster that Hydra made me…that Hydra perfected."

"Bucky…" he started but in a swift move his best friend pressed his metal forearm against his chest, pushing him back so that he fell against the door. Steve became alert so that he could be prepared for whatever happened next.

"Don't call me that!"

Bucky held him in place for a few seconds as his eyes were eventually drawn to Star's hair a final time before dropping it to the ground.

Steve knew that he should be afraid, but this was Bucky…right?

"Would you feel better if I called you Scary?"

"No," Bucky turned to look over his shoulder to consider the beaten man. "This was all Winter Soldier."

"And his job is now done. So let's get out of here and go find either one of them. Star is going to need both of them when she wakes up."

Bucky then eased his stance to let him go, taking a step back from him while seeming a bit lost.

"I can't…she…she deserves better than this part of me. It's a darkness that will always be there."

"No," Steve firmly told him. " _This_ is who she understands and accepts. _This_ is who she will never be afraid of. _This_ is who will help her get through this."

"How can you say that?"

"With everything she had just gone through, seeing you like this, she glimpsed your darkness and she reached up for you. Star loves you unconditionally...as Bucky, as Scary, and as the Winter Soldier."

"Star deserves so much more, someone worthy of her."

Steve could see Bucky starting to slightly break down due to the overall situation, maybe even beginning to actually believe the nonsense that he was spouting. Thinking of something dramatic to say, he hoped this helped while not getting him injured in the process.

"If Star woke up screaming from a nightmare, who do you want to be in the bed next to her to comfort her…you or me?"

That got his friend's attention, and in a bad way judging by the set of blackened cold blue jealous eyes now aimed right at him. Bucky took a step towards where Steve was already backed up against the door. Pointing a menacing silver finger right in his face...

"Don't you even think about…"

"You just made my point for me," raising his hands to placate him, Steve smiled trying to lighten the mood. He knew that Bucky wanted to be there for Star. All he had to do was make him admit it to himself. And he just did.

"Come on, Jerk. Let's go get you cleaned up."

Stepping out of the room, the Winter Soldier finally removed his mask.

* * *

  **Song: _Letters From The Sky_ by Civil Twilight**

* * *

Holding Star's bracelet in his hand, Bucky tried to listen to the doctor's explanation of what they were doing for Star but he just couldn't focus. The medical jargon was too technical for him, and also Steve by the lost looks he sometimes had. They were in an observation room next to where Star was lying as the surgeon's worked on her back. Steve had glanced over when they first arrived, getting a good look at her back. He hadn't seen him look so nauseous since the last time he had gotten the flu back in the early forties. For the rest of the time, Steve sat in the chair, looking anywhere else.

He had taken a quick shower in the locker room before putting on a spare set of workout clothes that Steve had in his locker. After having his old uniform off, he felt like he needed anything touching his skin to be loose. Luckily Steve had a long sleeve baggy sweatshirt. Pulling his thoughts back to the rambling doctor, he finally paid attention to him.

"It will take a few hours for them to remove the shredded skin. It will be these hours which will give us an indication on her chances for recovery. Her body has gone through a major shock to the system with all of the damage it has received. One of the doctors was amazed that she's managed to last this long," his voice became solemn as he continued to speak. "Right now, her chance for recovery is less than twenty percent."

Steve drew his hand up over his mouth and lower face, sucking in a long steady gasp of air as he tried to hold in his emotions.  Bucky was not as strong as him.

With a roar, his metal fist impacted with the concrete wall near the room's door. The doctor scrambled back from where he was pelted with bits of debris from the hole. Strong hands were placed on his shoulders, stopping him from taking another swing.

"And if she does recover?" Steve asked, changing to a more hopeful direction on the topic.

Bucky looked over at the man, who looked on the verge of arguing that it wasn't a real possibility, but he seemed to think better of it.

"We would have to watch out for infections, which has a higher chance with the condition of her back. And due to the amount of pain that she would be in, instead of using a morphine drip, we'd have to keep her in a medically induced coma until..." he hesitated as if trying to think of an answer that would keep him from injury, "there was some positive sign."

There was no mistaking the question sound of his final statement. Even this doctor did not think that Star would make it.

"Right now, they're trying to just get her back cleaned up and covered.  There's far too much exposed flesh for a skin graft."

Trying to let the tension in his body go, he felt Steve's hands leave him so he turned to sit in the chair as he looked at Star's prone unconscious form. He had only just found her, and now she was being taken away from him again.

"What about her other injuries?" Bucky calmly asked looking again at the bracelet.

"We will use a topical salve on the electrical burns and they will be gone in a matter of days. The other surgeon has already set her broken arm and put the cast on while she was being prepped for surgery. The X-ray showed that her ribs are only bruised, not broken, which is good since if she makes it that she will have to lay on her sides for quite a while. There's not too much we can do for the swelling on her face, cold packs every so often."

"What about her toes?" Steve asked.

"We didn't find any sign of permanent damage. The blood's circulation must not have been cut off for long enough. Except for her broken toes, they will be fine."

"Broken toes?" Steve asked.

"That was done long ago," he simply told him, getting a nod from Steve in understanding.

"May I ask...is that when the injuries to the bottoms of her feet occurred?" the doctor asked.

"Yes."

"So, she's been tortured before?" he was now looking between the two of them. Bucky could only nod. Her back was so damaged that the doctor could not even tell that it had already been nothing but scar tissue. "I'll keep you informed of any changes."

"Thanks," Steve offered for both of them so the doctor walked away, glaring at the hole one last time before leaving them alone.

Feeling a bit calmer, he tucked Star's bracelet into his pocket so that he could give it back to her once she woke up. In his mind, there could be no other scenario...it was too painful to think of.

Steve quietly asked him after a short bit, "What's wrong with the bottom of Star's feet?"

"Kozlov beat them raw. They healed covered in scars…just like her entire back already was."

"Her entire back?" Steve asked aloud. "That area you showed me the other night while she slept on the couch...you're telling me that her entire back looked like that. I though that was only a small area."

"That area you saw was at the far edge of the damage. The worst was closer to her spine where you couldn't see it," he informed him. "Her entire back was marked one way or another."

"Star has had _that_ ," he pointed towards her sounding disbelieving and needing it confirmed again, "done to her before?"

"In a way, yes," taking a breath he told Steve, "Kozlov used numerous items to beat her with over the four years he had her. Star had that done to her back too many times to count. Her skin was broken and healed in multiple layers of thick, rough scars. That guy in the basement hurt her so bad the doctors couldn't even tell."

Steve bent over and put his face in his hands again, trying to calm his breathing. Maybe Steve now understood why he had gone to such extremes for vengeance.

For the next few minutes, they sat in silence as the speaker for the operating room played at a low volume. He only had it on so that he could hear the moment something might go wrong. When the door behind them opened, neither bothered to look as the heavy footsteps came towards them. Fury came to stand at the window looking over at Star for a bit before he spoke.

"Captain, care to give me a quick briefing as to what happened in that basement?"

"Not really, Sir."

That got Fury's eyebrow raised towards the two of them.

"Why don't you give it a try anyways? _Off_ _the record_."

Steve looked over at Bucky and he nodded his approval for him to let Fury know what he'd done. He probably already did, he guessed. Bucky listened as Steve honestly told him what they had heard the men saying and what he had done before they found Star in the room. When Steve started to list off her injuries, Fury admitted that he had already spoken with the doctors. Then Steve hesitantly told about how Bucky had taken the man into the room, probably waiting to see how much trouble they were _both_ about to be in.

"I've seen and spoken with the other patient," Fury turned to look at Star again. "Where were you at while that was happening, Captain?"

"About eight feet away, Sir."

Fury sighed but didn't speak or move for a while.

"I questioned the prisoner when he woke up as to why he did that to her back. With a smile on his face he told me that since her skin was already so tough due to scaring that he had to get down to the sensitive tissue so she would answer his questions."

The room was filled with the sound of the metal arms of his chair being twisted and broken off.

"At ease, Sergeant," Fury had turned to face him, worried that he was about to have an outburst. He must not have noticed the hole yet.

"He'll be fine, Nick," Steve's hand was on his shoulder.

"I take it from what I learned from him and the doctors that Lucy's been tortured before, possibly extensively?" Fury asked. Both he and Steve just nodded to let him know. He saw a slight falling of his shoulders as if he were hoping for a different answer. He then dropped the subject by saying, "Nat's on the way back with a bunch of ledgers that she found in a safe that give not only client names, but the names of the bribed cops, judges, and politicians. For the next few weeks, S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to be cleaning up the rest of this city that didn't have anything to do with Hydra. During that time, the two of you will be sitting out from missions."

That was their punishment? To sit around?...not that he was going to leave Star's side if he could help it.

"Are you going to have Lucy moved to a public hospital?" Steve then asked.

"No. With the information that was gathered due to her kidnapping, considering all the corrupt officials named in those journals, the safest place for her right now is here. You'll both have access to her room if...once she is moved out of surgery."

It seemed that Fury had been also briefed on Star's condition.

Since neither of the other two were bringing it up, Bucky finally had to ask, "Am I going to be taken into custody for what I did?"

"No," Fury firmly informed him. "I'm the top authority here and it's my decision as to what happens under my roof. I don't see anything wrong with what happened."

Bucky glanced up at Fury with a questioning look at that comment.

"Next time, just so you know, the paperwork on a dead body is much shorter," Fury stated, leaving the two of them stunned and glaring at him. "I'm not a motherfucking saint."

Fury then turned and walked out of the room.

* * *

Steve ran down the hallway, dropping the two paper cups of coffee that he had been fetching after the long night of standing watch. The alarm sound notifying the medical staff of an emergency had started to blare just as he re-entered the medical ward. The fact that Star was the only patient that he knew of told him that it was a very bad sign.

Running, he made it to the room she had been moved to in ICU right after surgery moments after the numerous staff members poured inside. He had seen them wheeling in a large electronic device with them. That could not be a good sign.

The doctor was calling out various request for information and the nurses responded quickly. The only thing that Steve understood was the continuous steady sound of the beep. When he had left not long ago, it was pulsing with each beat of Star's heart. Now, it was not.

As the doctor yelled out orders, Steve pulled his eyes away from Star to search the crowded room for Bucky. Seeing his distraught friend huddled in the far corner, his watery eyes fixated on the chaos before him made Steve finally leave the room's doorway.

Reaching Bucky's side, he didn't speak as he wrapped his arms around his friend to try and comfort him at this horrible moment. The numerous voices were still going on behind him as he felt Bucky's body slacken now that he had someone to support him.

"I can't lose her, Steve. I just can't," the breaking soft voice reached his ears.

Hearing loud movements, Steve turned enough to watch as they moved Star from her side onto her hurt back to attach the defibrillator to try and restart her heart. With each surge of electricity Star received, he felt Bucky's own body jerk. After too many times, they were all finally rewarded with the sound of the heart monitor starting its steady pulsing beat.

Over the next few minutes, the room slowly began to clear of nurses, leaving only the doctor behind. Even after having brought her back, his face was gloomy.

After explaining what she'd suffered, they listened as he finished with, "...We were lucky. That was the second time we've had to bring her back since being on the operating table. Her body will not be able to handle much more."

A few minutes later, Bucky was again sitting next to Star with her hand in his, pressed against his forehead. Steve was watching him by using the reflection on the window. This was not the time for him to be alone, but he needed privacy. Leaning against the wall, he took up a vigil on his two friends.

Some time later, he sensed movement from the doorway and Steve was greeted with the familiar outline of Fury quietly standing here observing into the room.

His mind began to race through all of what he'd learned since coming out of the ice. All of the new technological advancements, the discovery of new treatments for ailments, even the strange drug that had given Fury the appearance of dying.

Knowing that he had to do something, anything, to help his friends, he walked over to Bucky.

Gently placing his hand on his shoulder, Bucky looked up at him as he told him, "I'll be back in a little while."

He only received a nod before Bucky's attention was back on Star.

Stepping with a purpose towards the door, he instructed Nick to follow him down the hallway to an empty room where they could talk in private.

"I heard what happened..." was as far as he allowed Nick to get.

"You have the ability to save her, don't you?" Steve cut him off with as much of a stern voice as he could. The quick look that flashed over the face before him gave him the answer. Angrily, he demanded, "Then why haven't you used it yet?"

"It's not that simple," Nick told him before finally breaking eye contact to take a couple of steps around the room while thinking.

"Yes, it is," Steve informed him. "You know what that bastard did to her. After all that she had been through in her life, she doesn't deserve to die like this!"

There was no mistaking the look on Nick's face as he considered Steve's words.

"No, she doesn't," he finally stated before looking Steve right in the eyes.  "And are you willing to help her?"

Steve wondered where Nick was going with this, but he answered, "Yes, whatever it takes."

"Even if it takes your blood?"

* * *

Bucky stared at the screen along with Steve as the scientist finished their far-over-the-heads-of-two-old-soldiers explanation of how they wanted to use some of Steve's altered blood to save Star.

They really did want to experiment on her, just like he had been worried about earlier.

But now...this might be the only chance that she would have.

"What will exactly happen to her?" he asked.

The looks that passed between the men told him that they were not sure about what he was about to hear.

"The damage to her body is extensive, but with the modified serum created from Captain Rogers' blood, it _should_ accelerate the healing process," the first one told him.

"Her bones could mend much quicker, the electrical burns could be as if they never existed, and we are hoping that the skin on her back will begin to grow back," the second finished.

"How long do you expect all of this to take?" Natasha asked from where she stood behind them, slightly pacing back and forth.

There was another look between the two men.

"We're not exactly sure since it's not the original serum used on the Captain," the second one said. "But theoretically, we would expect that in a matter of days to see some type of improvement."

"Theoretically?" Bucky asked.

"This procedure has only been theorized, and even the scientist who was creating the formula was still working on it before his death," number two explained.

"His death?" Bucky felt his entire body grow a bit colder. It couldn't be... He had to know. "Who...who was the scientist?"

"Howard Stark," number one offered.

He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the guts at hearing the name. The only person in the world who's work could save Star was one of his biggest laments. He had killed Howard and his wife Maria, and now these two scientist wanted to save the love of his life with Howard's work.

Slowly his head began to shake as he managed to respond with, "There has to be some other way..."

"Why wouldn't you want to use the procedure?" number two asked, not knowing the history there. "It may only still be theoretical but there's no real reason to doubt it would work."

"Can you give us some privacy?" Nick Fury requested of the two men, who just nodded and walked out of the conference room. Coming to stand across the table from him, he demanded, "Care to explain?"

Looking up at him, Bucky wasn't sure how this was going to play out. Giving out information about a target that he seemed unaware of, would Fury then have him taken into custody? If he didn't answer, would he not help Star at all? Knowing that he and Natasha were still waiting for an answer, he decided to just get it over with.

"Howard and Maria's deaths were not an accident," he simply stated.

Fury continued to glare down at him, and after a few moments he began to nod as the understanding of the comment came to him.

"Hydra?"

"Yes."

"What would that have to do with not wanting to use Howard's procedure?" Natasha asked from behind him.

Turning his eyes to the table top, he tried to put his feelings into understandable words.

"Hydra may have wanted Howard dead, but I was the one who ended their lives. Now, you want to use his work to save the woman I love. I would...benefit by doing so. That pains me more than I can explain."

"But Star would also benefit," Steve pointed out to him.

"And I want her healed in the most urgent way you can imagine," he looked over at his friend. "But it feels so wrong to use Howard's procedure. I killed him."

The three of them began to glare at each other, as if wanting someone to speak. Finally, it was Fury who did.

"The guilt that you have for Howard and his wife is something that will be with you for probably the rest of your life. But consider this...how guilty and devastated are you going to be tomorrow when Star dies and all you had to do to save her life was agree by saying 'yes'?"

And Bucky hadn't thought that he could possibly feel any worse.

"Nick, I am giving you authorization to go ahead with the procedure," Steve firmly stated.

Bucky's head zipped around to glare at Steve, and pointed out, "You can't do that!"

"I have just as much right to give approval as you technically do," he said. "In fact, since it's my blood that is needed, I should get the _only_ say-so as to who would benefit from it."

"But you are not family," Bucky argued.

Giving a slight wince, Steve stated, "Neither are you."

"That's a low blow, Punk."

"But he's right, " Natasha agreed.

"Since Lucy is under Shield's care, it is therefore my decision as to what happens under my roof," Fury chimed in, getting all three of them to look at him. "And as long as Rogers agrees for his blood to be used in the procedure, then I will order for it to commence."

Without waiting for anyone, namely him, to argue any more, Fury turned and left the room, calling out for the two scientist to inform Rogers when they were ready for him. No matter how he may feel about who created the procedure, it seemed that it was no longer up to him. And somehow that helped to alleviate some of the anguish he'd felt.

His entire body's tension eased as he thought about how Star might actually have a chance at survival.

"Steve," he tried to find a steady voice, "I can't thank you enough for agreeing to do this for her."

Putting his hand on Bucky's shoulder, he told him, "I understand. And knowing that Howard's scientific mind would be able to grasp what Hydra did to _your_ mind, I'm sure that he would be fine with Star's life being saved by using his procedure."

Natasha then touched his other shoulder, agreeing, "Steve's right. And I think that you just need to stop overthinking this."

"I'll try," he honestly told them.

Rising up, he headed back up to the medical ward and the only room in the world where he wanted to be right now.

* * *

"How long will it take before the serum is ready for Lucy?" Steve asked as the vial of his blood was taken over to a machine to begin the analysis of it.

"A few hours since Mr. Stark's records already show what we should be looking for," one of the scientist told him. "After that, it will be a few more before we can hopefully duplicate it."

"Will she have some of the same abilities that I have?" he asked, curious now that he was here.

"We're not exactly sure," one of the others nearby told him. "The serum used on you was only part of the full procedure. The records show that the second step was also very vital to your enhancements. We do not have access to the device Mr. Stark created, but the serum will still have an effect on her body, just not as impressive as yours was."

Steve nodded, knowing that this was still new to them also. Bucky had told him about how he'd retrieved a case of serum and delivered it to Hydra. Howard had eventually perfected a type of serum, but the notes for it were not what they were using today.

As long as the serum they created saved Star's life, then he would be happy.

"Keep me informed," he told them heading towards the door. "There's a very impatient significant other waiting for any positive results you can give."

"Yes, Sir," they all seemed to answer in understanding.

* * *

Bucky was practically counting each individual drop of the blue substance that was now being fed through an IV into Star's arm. He had been kept awake for training and had heard of the painful experience the other soldiers in Russia had after being injected with the other formula.  The doctors assured him that even if Star did have any discomfort that it would be nowhere near what he described to them.

And over the next hour as the clear bag slowly emptied, it seemed that they were correct with that theory as Star did not stir in pain at all. They had kept the other bag with the stuff keeping her in a coma, so maybe that helped.

Hearing the heavy footsteps from the doorway, he spotted Sam, Natasha, and Steve standing there with bags of food and drinks.

"Since you won't come down to the commissary to eat, it will come to you," Sam told him as they entered the room and began to get comfortable.

After a couple of bites of the sandwiches, Steve asked, "Anything noticeable?"

"Not yet," he answered.

"Give it some time," Nat told him. "She has some of the best minds looking out for her."

Bucky nodded in agreement as he continued to eat.

* * *

The next day, Bucky was woken up early in the morning by the feeling of being watched. Lifting his head up from the headrest of the reclining chair in Star's recovery room, he found the reason why.

"That is a nasty habit that you need to get out of, Widow," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he examined Star. She had not moved in the slightest since before he fell asleep what felt like only hours ago. The doctor told him that she wouldn't move at all, but he had reasons not to fully trust them thanks to previous experiences.

"I have to stay in practice somehow," Nat said moving from her spot at the window to stand at the foot of the bed. Examining Star, he saw her eyes linger on her visible injuries. "Is it just me, or does she look a slight bit better?"

"I noticed it late last night too. The swelling has gone down and the burn marks are healed much more than they would have on their own by now. The scientist come in every few hours just to check on her.  The docs keep working on her back, changing the bandages but there was not any noticeable change there. Until they feel she's ready to deal with the pain, he said they're going to keep her asleep."

Star was hooked up to numerous bags for either medicine or nourishment. Over her lower face was a breathing mask since her nose was still too swollen for air tubes to go in. He had long ago drowned out the constant sound of the heartbeat machine, only noticing it now if he wanted to.

"It's probably for the best, right now. Why don't you either head home or to Steve's and get cleaned up?"

"Steve's bringing me a clean set of clothes in a little while. There's a small shower in the bathroom."

He saw that she had a journal that was not one of his in her hand.

"What's that?"

"This was found in the safe at the O'Connell house, along with a lot more just like them. The analysts have been going over them, and after talking with Steve I put in a request for them to be on the lookout for something. And they found it. This is an older one of the books that contain the names of their high-end buyers…along with their purchases," she gave him a small smile as she flipped the book open to a marked page.

For the next minute, he was fixated on the names before him, almost feeling like he could cry since he understood the meaning.

"I have a project that I'm going to need a lot of help and favors with. Nat, I have no right to ask this of you, considering that I shot you, but there's nobody else that I can trust with getting this done," he told her, seeing a slight smile come over her.

"Having _you_ owe _me_? Why would I pass up _that_ opportunity?" Nat was actually grinning now.

"I _already_ owed you one, now it will be _two_ ," he told her as she sat down in the other chair usually occupied by Steve or Sam.

"Since you shot me _twice_ , wouldn't this be number _three_?" she deviously smiled while wiggling three fingers in the air.

Relenting with a grin and chuckle, "Fine, I owe you _three_...", he firmly stated before starting to explain the favor.

* * *

"And I thought you looked like crap that day when you first showed up at my apartment!" Steve had to taunt his friend who was eating some kind of granola bar for breakfast. Stepping just inside the room, he told him, "Star has a visitor."

Sherry then stepped inside of the room, her entire focus drawn to Star's body lying in the bed on her side. By the time she reached her friend's side, Sherry had tears running down her face. When she was able to regain her composure a few minutes later, she asked, "Who did this to her? Was it Tommy?"

He looked over at Steve for that answer. He never bothered to find out the name of the man who he'd beaten to a pulp.

"Yes. He's a level down on a secured floor. He's in pretty bad shape," Steve told her.

"Good," she said gently touching Star's cast. "I hope he dies."

Her comment reminded him so much of what Star had told him at dinner one night when she heard about what happened at the Vault. Seemed that Sherry had that same vengeance streak that Star did. But she also knew who had done this and what he had done in the past. Stepping over to Bucky, he handed him the bag holding the clothes and shaving kit that he had brought.

"Go get cleaned up. We'll stay here with Star," he told him to which Bucky only nodded before closing the bathroom door behind him. Steve wondered how long it would take Bucky to notice his surprise.

As the shower ran in the background, he and Sherry sat and talked for a while about what had happened at the house. Hearing how she had reacted to the revelation about Tommy, he decided to not hold anything back. He knew now that she and Star had not only worked together for a long time, but were good friends, even with keeping Bucky a secret from her. Sherry was the only member of the team that was going to be granted access to the Triskelion to see Star while she was still here, and only because of Steve's request.

"So, why was James using your phone to text Lucy and signing them Scary?" she finally got around to asking.

"It's a bit of a long and classified story for part of that explanation but let's just say it's easier to send a text on anything but a burner flip phone," he grinned at her. "So he would borrow mine. They call each other by nicknames, his is Scary, hers is Star."

"Probably for her tattoo, right?" Steve nodded in agreement. "Your friend Sam said that their relationship was complicated, at best. Can you explain part of that at least?"

Steve took a moment to figure out how much he could tell her and how much Star would want her to know. After knowing how badly she'd been hurt, Sherry would become suspicious if the healing process worked the way they all were hoping.

"Remember when we mentioned Lucy being taken years ago?" Sherry nodded, her fully attention on him. "Bucky was the one to help free her and get her back to America in 1984."

With the way that her face scrunched up at hearing that, he knew what was coming.

"What was he, like, two years old?" she had a smile on her face.

"Not exactly. That answer falls under the classified category. But I can tell you that they are very happy being together again, even with the tribulations they are going through."

"I've never seen Lucy so happy as she has been over the past week. Days ago, I finally saw her smile at a text and got her to admit that there was some special…James," that was when she paused while talking. Tilting her head, she look at him and then the closed bathroom door, then back at him and her eyes went wide. "James. You just called him Bucky. You're Captain America. The Howling Commandos…Bucky was one of them. But he died!"

Steve shouldn't be surprised that she figured it out so easily considering what she did for a living.

"Let's just say that every history book out there would have to be changed if that information wasn't _classified_ ," he sheepishly grinned at Sherry who was frozen staring at him. "I'll see if eventually we can get you clearance to know the whole story, but no guarantees."

"Oh, what the hell, Steve!" came the yell from the bathroom, getting both of them to look that way. When the door opened, Bucky was standing there dressed in the clothes he had brought…all of them normal except for a bright blue t-shirt with little white stars all over it. He searched the store for an hour before he'd found the perfect joke shirt. "I can't believe you did this to me. My first bath in days, and now I look like a dancing money!"

When he had calmed back down from laughing at his friend, Steve told him, "That reminds me…Sam is going to bring you lunch today. He wants the two of you to talk for a little while."

"I can guess the topic," Bucky sat back in his chair close to the bed and took Star's good hand in his. Steve noticed that Sherry was staring at the silver arm now exposed on Bucky but she never said anything about it. He guessed that she figured it fell into that 'classified' category also.

"James, Bucky, or whatever you want to be called, I wanted you to know that I've called Star's brother, David. A small group of family members are flying up today from Savannah to see Star."

"I didn't even think about calling them," Bucky admitted. "All that Star told me that her mom is a bit haughty."

"That woman can drive the Pope to drink," Sherry humorously told them. "I'm picking them up this afternoon. They're staying at a hotel nearby. So you know, one of your agents gave me instructions on what to tell them, about why she's not in a real hospital. But, just be prepared. Having some Prozac or Zoloft handy would be good."

Steve looked confused over at Bucky who was the same, and Sherry noticed.

"Sorry. Forgot who I was talking to," she smiled at the both of them. "Whiskey, vodka, or bourbon. Just ignore all of the criticism, she's a bit...no, she's a _lot_ narrow minded with certain things. Fuck, the two of you are _definitely_ going to need alcohol afterwards."

"She's that bad?" Steve had to ask.

"Sandra is one of a kind…thank God."

The three of them talked for a little bit before the nurses came to change the bandages again. She tried to stay strong but when Sherry caught a glimpse of the damage still too fresh to Star's back, she was overcome with emotion so he offered to walk her out.

They ended up in the main lobby as they walked and chatted, Sherry asking him questions about what was going to happen with the O'Connell case. S.H.I.E.L.D. had pulled some strings to stay in charge of the cases since there were so many corrupt officials and politicians who could shut them down. But Star's team was still working on it since they were the ones most familiar with the people involved. With both agencies working together, it would guarantee that everyone one involved with them would eventually go to trial.

"Did you know that Lucy's original overall plan was to take the O'Connell family down then retire?" Sherry told him as they reached her car.

"Really?" he asked.

"For some reason…well, _now_ I know why, Lucy wanted to make sure that they were out of business. Even with others still out there, she said that if she didn't have a set goal, that this job would never end. The O'Connells were her white whale…and she actually managed to catch them."

"I get that reference," he smile at her before explaining the story behind that, earning him quite a few laughs.

After talking for a few more minutes, they parted before he made his way back up to Star's room. Bucky hadn't left it since they had brought her from surgery, and Steve suspected that he would be here until she woke up. The nurses were gone and now Star had been rolled to her other side.

He recalled the other day when a male nurse had entered. The moment he tried to touch Star, Bucky's...actually, _Scary's_ possessive nature kicked in and the guy had been kicked out. From that point on, he and female nurses took care of her. Male doctors were allowed, but Steve knew that Bucky was watching them very carefully.

"Sherry gone?" Bucky asked as he stood in a sunbeam coming through the window.

"Yeah, but she'll be back later with Star's family. I'm also going to keep in touch with her daily and let her know how she is doing," he said taking an empty chair. "We talked for a bit before she left though. Remember that raid that Star went on about a week ago?"

"How could I forget?"

"Sherry mentioned that there were only three girls in the container, and that it had bothered them."

Bucky turned to face him, leaning on the windowsill.

"Star mentioned that when she got home that night. They always found more, except for that time."

"One of the lower ranking guys tried working out a deal. He told how the old man and his son split the ' _cargo_ ' up between a couple of boxes and then let the information on each box be leaked in different ways. When that box was confiscated, it told them who the snitch was."

"That means that a lot more boxes and girls got through that they didn't know about," Bucky looked distraught thinking that.

"Yes, but Sherry's group found the information on the other girls. With the evidence from the house, and S.H.I.E.L.D. making sure the warrants were issued, they've been raiding the different sex shops for two days freeing them."

There was an audible sigh of relief from Bucky hearing that.

"Star will be so happy to hear that," his friend said coming over to her.

The different machines hooked up to her had a low steady pulsing noise to them. The swelling over the different areas of her face had gone down, while leaving behind discoloration in the form of dark purple and yellow splotches from the bruising that would remain for a few more days. When her family got here, at least they will be able to partially recognize her.

"Star's going to be here over a week at least. When you're ready to go home, I'll give you a ride," he told him.

"Star told me that first night that I went to her house that I would always have a home wherever you or she was. So, until she's ready to leave here, this is my new home."

Days ago, that might have given him pause, but since the serum, Star had started to make marginally visible improvements. Hopefully she continued her steady healthy climb.

"Fine, but if you want, my couch will be there if that chair gets too uncomfortable and you don't want to be alone," he told him as he exited the room to go deal with more paperwork from the raid.

After only a few steps into the hall, Bucky called out, "Can I use the yellow blanket?"

Steve pursed his lip to stop the wide smile that threatened to form as he kept on walking. Hearing Bucky say that, Steve felt that the overpowering anger that had been brought out in the basement seemed to finally be gone, and that his friend was once again in full control.


	66. Alternate Ending: Part Two

**Song: _Peace_ by Apocalyptica**

* * *

"Sergeant," Bucky heard from the doorway, recognizing Fury's voice. "Lucy's family is at the front gate."

"I'm not actually a sergeant anymore," he said standing from the same chair he'd been in all day...well, the past three days. The only time he had left was to go raid Steve's locker for a normal button-down long sleeve shirt, not wanting to wear that hideous thing to meet her family. Now he owed Steve a blanket _and_ a lock...but Steve'd done that one to himself, Bucky figured.

"Technically, you _are_ since you were listed as MIA," Fury informed him as they walked out of the room. "With what happened to you, I'm working to have you listed as a POW for the last 69 years. The paperwork will take a few more days, but your status as an alive American citizen will be reinstated, along with your back pay."

"Back pay?" he asked as they stepped into the elevator. "You want to pay me for murdering all of those people for Hydra?"

"I _want_ to pay a soldier who the country thought gave his life to defend freedom, was taken prisoner and tortured, then brainwashed to force him to act against his own nature. I did the same for Steve after he woke up."

"It doesn't feel right."

"Steve said the same thing, but he kept the money and so will you. Now you can buy your girl something nice."

Bucky had to smile at hearing that as the doors opened to the lobby. Sherry was sitting off to the side with a much older woman while the man he guessed was David tried to keep a very young girl seated while she was determined to see the large S.H.I.E.L.D. eagle emblem in the center of the lobby. He stepped out of the elevator while Fury stayed inside. Bucky turned to him, expecting him to meet the family but it seemed that was beyond his curiosity.

"Here," Fury said handing him a S.H.I.E.L.D. security key-card that would give him the probably the same access to the building as Steve. "Have fun."

With the doors then closing in his face, Bucky grew very worried. Turning back around, he saw that Sherry was now standing, having seem him leave the elevator, catching the entire group's attention. Starting to walk towards them, he saw the small girl finally manage to break from David, running right for him. Not knowing what to do, he stopped as she barely managed to not slam into his leg.

"I know you!" she looked up at him with a gaped-tooth smile.

"You do?" he asked curious as to how she would while seeing the group moving slowly towards them.

"Auntie Lu showed me a picture of you on her phone. She said you were traveling."

"Yeah, I was but I'm here now," he told her as the others reached them. Putting his left hand casually behind him, he offered his right, "Hi there. I'm James."

"Hello, I'm David Trencher, Lucy's brother. This is Sandra, her mother. And Sara, my granddaughter," he introduced them as they all shook hands. Taking the girl's hand. "You can take us to Lucy?"

"Yes, she's upstairs in the medical wing," he said as he indicated the elevator.

"Is there a _reason_ that my daughter is in this place and not a _real_ hospital?" Sandra asked sounding either angry or haughty. Maybe it was a bit of both.

"Sandra, I told you. That's classified because of the case," Sherry offered as they stepped inside the elevator.

"I've been saying since she got that job that…"

"Mom, please. Not now," David offered trying to stop the comment and any that would follow. It seemed to work for the moment. Bucky could guess how the rest of that sentence would have gone.

When the doors opened, he led them down the hallway, stopping when they rounded the corner to find Steve standing at Star's door. As Steve turned towards the group, Bucky knew that this was going to take a few moments to get past their shock. There was not a lot of reason for them to recognize him, but Captain America? Of course they did. Steve took a few steps towards them.

"Um…I guess I should introduce Steve Rogers," Bucky tried to keep the amused sound from his voice.

Offing his hand, Steve greeted them, "It's nice to meet all of you."

"I don't believe it," David's eyes were wide with wonder. Sherry must not have mentioned that Star had a famous friend or two.

"What are you doing _here_?" Sandra plainly asked not sounding impressed at all with meeting Captain America. Only Sara didn't seem to know who Steve was, probably because he was out of uniform.

"I'm a friend of Lucy's," he told them. "I stop by a couple of times during the day to check on her."

Steve then turned to face Bucky, knowing that he was also checking in on him without admitting to it aloud.

"I should tell you what to expect from Lucy's condition," Bucky realized a bit late thinking about what Star looked like lying in the bed, getting them to look at him. "She is hooked up to a lot of equipment, mostly for monitoring her vitals. Right now, the doctors are keeping her in a coma on purpose, so she's sleeping and can't wake up," he added the last part specifically for Sara.

Right now, they were not cleared to know about the experimental procedure that they were using on her. If Star continued to improve, and they questioned the speed of her recovery, Fury might have to intervene and give them some details.

"How badly was she injured?" David asked. "They said we couldn't know how she was hurt, only that she was."

"Her arm is in a cast, and her face is bruised up, along with most of her body. Her back took the worst part so she has to stay laying on her sides."

"David, do you want me to keep Sara out here while you and Sandra go in?" Sherry offered.

"I want to see Auntie Lu!" Sara pronounced firmly while stomping her foot. David looked at him for help.

"How about letting David and Sandra see Auntie Lu first? Then, if they think it is alright, you can go in," he offered as a way out for David.

"Fine!" Sara huffed out crossing her arms and giving the cutest pout he had ever seen.

Leading them the final few steps, he heard an audible gasp from both of them when they actually saw Star. Steve hung back by the door, leaning on it. Bucky had asked the nurses to turn her so that she faced the door, hiding her injured back even though it was covered with the bandages and bed sheet. Her mother took a few steps over, placing her hand on Star's face for a second before drawing it back as if she'd been burned.

"I _knew_ it!" she started to say. "I _knew_ that this would happen with that _damn_ job of hers. She couldn't just stay at home and be happy. No. She _had_ to go out and try and fight bad guys and _this_ is what it has gotten her."

"Mom, _please_. Lucy may be in a coma but she can _probably_ hear you. She _doesn't_ need your negativity right now," David told her firmly.

Bucky moved to the side of the room, closer to the window, already starting to understand the warning that Sherry had given them.

"What do you _expect_? _Look_ at her," she pointed at Star still form, tubes with nourishing fluids in them on both arms, an oxygen mask covering her lower face to help her breathe. " _This_ does not happen with a _normal_ job. _You've_ never ended up in a hospital almost dead, and neither has your _sister_. But Lucy just wouldn't stop! She _had_ to become an agent! She _had_ to go to college! She _had_ to go to that damn concert!"

" _Mom_!" David now yelled, drawing the attention of a nurse passing by outside. Steve nodded to her that everything was fine and she continued on. Dropping his voice to a normal tone, " _None_ of what happened to her back then was _her fault_."

" _Everything_ that has happened is _her fault_!" Sandra firmly stated. "She took off that night, sneaking out of a _damn_ window. For years we had to tell people that she'd run away. And then finding out that she ended up in communist Russia of all the _damn_ places as a sex slave. Do you even understand how _embarrassing_ that is?"

"Embarrassing?"

Both of them turned to look at him as he spoke for the first time, having forgotten that Bucky was in the room. But all of his focus was on the woman who dared to say anything bad about Star.

"Do you have any idea of the _pain_ and _suffering_ and _torture_ that she went through for all of those years? She could have just as easily shut down to the entire world, turning in a scared victim too afraid to step a foot outside for fear of that happening again. The fact that she was able to come home and start over, to make so much _good_ come from her life after living in that horrible world for so long is a _miracle_ …something that you should be _proud_ of. Yet you only want to focus on what others _thought of you?_ "

Sandra was focused on him and he could see something in her that he most assuredly knew...there was a darkness there. Sandra then stood up straight.

" _Life_? What kind of _life_ does she have? Thirty years she's been alone, slowing turning into a useless spinster. Sleeping with those horrible men whose jobs were to hurt others. Only _once_ has she _almost_ managed to land her a _decent man_ to take care of her. If she had only kept her mouth shut until after the wedding then maybe Eric could have eventually dealt with her _deformity_."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Steve straighten up, waiting for a fight…and not a verbal one.

"What deformity?" he needed her to say it.

"She was spayed like a common dog. What real man wants a woman that can't provide him with children? Is she even still considered a female?"

His eyes narrowed, and Bucky pulled from all his Hydra conditioning to help control the heated emotions about to boil over in him at hearing that. He'd heard those words before and he hated them now just as much as he did then...when Star had said them about herself. But now, he began to understand _where_ they had come from.

" _Spinster_? _Deformity_? _You!"_ he pointed his metal finger accusingly at Star's mother, " _You_ are the one who put those _damn_ _stupid_ ideas into her head. Those weren't _her words_...they were _yours_! _That's_ why she _kept_ worrying about me _leaving_ her for someone else and about _having_ kids. Her mind has been _poisoned_ by a _demented woman_ who should have loved her _unconditionally!"_ he paused for a few angry breaths. _"_ If I ever hear even a _hint_ of those words coming out of your mouth towards Star again, I will make sure that you _never_ see her again! If you thought those _other_ men were horrible, then you are in for a _shock_ when you learn about _me!_ And trust me when I say that no matter what the hell you eventually think of me, I _am_ going to be here for Star from now on! _Especially_ if that means I have to protect her from you!"

Dropping his voice as cold as he could make it _and_ with a tone that left _no chance_ at being argued with, "Get the _fuck_ out of here!"

Sandra's lips slightly parted, as if she were about to say something, but instead she held her chin up, turned with a huff and left the room. Steve moved out of her way otherwise she looked to be ready to plow into him. For the next minute, only the sound of the monitors' beeping was heard as the three of them all calmed down.

"I'm sorry about my mom. She has no angel on her shoulder to guide her when it comes to…well, everything," David tried apologizing for the rudest woman he had ever come across over ninety-seven years. "When she told me that she wanted to come see LSD I thought that she was going to behave herself."

"LSD?" Steve asked from the doorway.

"My nickname for Lucy since we were little. Mom and dad hated it," David gave them a knowing smile as he stepped over to touch Star's hand. He held on to it. "There's an old Beatles song called _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_ that became associated with the drug LSD. The initials are taken from the song. It's her favorite song due to her name being in the title. It's also where her tattoo comes from."

"The pink star," Bucky answered remembering their conversations.

"I'm guessing by your comments just now that you know about her tattoo?" David asked with a bit of a smile.

"Seen it many times," he decided to hint.

David then turned back to look at Star as he held her hand.

Speaking to Star, "I know you probably heard mom, but you and I know that she can shove those type of thoughts up her ass. She's made your life miserable and I'm sorry I brought her…especially when you can't defend yourself."

David then looked over at him and added, "But it seems that you have at least one friend who's not scared of the old bat."

"As you probably can tell, he's not _just_ a friend," Steve offered up with a grin.

"Star and I have been together…since…" he had to take a breath and figure this out, "for a classified amount of time."

That really got David's eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"Do you work for the F.B.I. also?" he asked him.

"No, I guess you can say that I work for the new S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, if you can stand up to my mom and defend LSD from her, then I'm extremely glad to meet you James."

Behind Steve came a strange noise as Sara managed to run into the room without looking, this time actually running into his leg. She looked up at him and then her grandfather knowing that she was in trouble for not waiting in the hall.

"Sara, what are you..." David started to ask before Sara told him...

"GreatGram was trying to make me leave with her, but I don't want to! I want to see Auntie Lu!" she looked to be very upset at the idea of leaving.

Her eyes then turned to the bed and he could only watch as the tears actually did start to build up in them. David reached down and picked her up to comfort her.

"Sara, Auntie Lu is going to be fine. She's sleeping right now but she can't wake up until she's a bit better," David explained to her.

Her face puckered for a few moments as she held in the tears, before telling them, "That's not Auntie Lu."

"Yes, it is, sweetie," David said.

"No, Poppy. Her hair is short. That's not Auntie Lu."

Between the hair and the bruising on her face, Sara didn't recognize her. Reaching over, Bucky pulled the collar of the hospital gown down so that Sara could see the tattoo remembering that Star mentioned she liked seeing it.

"Then where is her hair?" Sara asked with quivering lips, now convinced that it was Auntie Lu.

David looked over at him for an explanation.

"A bad man cut her hair. He's the one who hurt her," he figured she needed to hear at least that.

"Why did he hurt her?" Sara then asked.

Bucky took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to scare her. He answered, "She was trying to have the bad men and his bad friends put in jail. They hurt her to stop her. But we caught them. And in a week or so, after a long sleep, your Auntie Lu can wake up."

"Then I'll stay here until she does!" Sara offered up sounding very sure that she could.

"Sara, we'll have to see what you parents say about that. But if we can work it out, you can be here when she wakes up. Auntie Lu would love to see you."

"Alright, Poppy."

"Poppy?" Steve amusingly asked.

"Yes. We grew up around a lot ' _flower children_ ' in the sixties. Since I gave _her_ a drug nickname, LSD thought it would be funny for _me_ to have one as well, so since the moment they learned to talk, she told my grand-kids to call me Poppy since opium comes from the poppy flower."

It was the first time in days that they'd had a reason to laugh.

* * *

"Wow," Steve paused as he stepped closer to Star's bed, staring down at her still form with wide eyes.

"What?" Bucky asked hurriedly coming to his side after leaving the window.

"Haven't you noticed?" he asked pointing at Star's hairline.

As of yesterday afternoon, the bruising had been entirely gone from her face, and the swelling had receded. For the most part, Star looked back to normal. But now, this morning, there was a new change.

The natural brown of her hair close to her scalp had slowly started to overtake the aged grey of her tresses.  Steve then noticed that even some of the fine lines around her eyes were not as noticeable anymore.

"It's the serum," Bucky whispered out. "It's still working on her."

Days ago, the scientist and doctors had come in for a joint meeting as they notated their observations of her accelerated healing. The skin on her back was slowly growing over the raw flesh, but faster than it would have without the serum. Her broken arm had been scanned and found the bone had already fused at twice the speed of normal.  They had jabbered away for more than an hour with so much scientific lingo being thrown around that it almost gave him a headache.

The one thing they had finally left Bucky and him with was that overall the serum was indeed working and that they no longer feared that Star would not pull through.

"I'm always here, looking at her," Bucky told him, touching his fingers to the new brown color. "I didn't notice."

"But since I left and came back hours later, it was more noticeable to me," Steve admitted.

Brushing a strand of loose hair away from her temple, he heard Bucky whisper, "I wonder how far it is going to go?"

* * *

"I did not expect that," Sam stood only feet inside of the doorway where he and the others had paused to look at the change in Star.

Steve looked over at him and Bucky saw he mirrored the smile he had.

"She looks so much like she did when we met," Bucky admitted aloud to the small group now crowding Star's room.

Over the past week, the serum had continued its work, slowly fixing anything that it had found damaged with Star's body.  That seemed to include grey hair, wrinkle lines on her face, and age spots on her arms. The doctor later informed him that varicose veins in her legs had receded back to a healthy size. More test were then run and their results included her muscles being of a slightly higher percentage then they had been.  She would not be a strong as Steve when she woke up, but the scientist expected her to be able to do and handle a lot more.

After asking, they agreed that her highly toned legs would definitely help her run faster too.  That brought a smile to both him and Steve.

They might have also not mentioned that to Sam yet, hoping to make him the butt of a joke soon.

The sound of running footsteps sounded from the hallway and everyone turned, knowing exactly who was approaching.

Seconds later, Sara barrelled into the room, almost managing to stop herself before she impacted with Nick Fury's leg. The two of them glared at each other for only a second before Sara's arms raised in the indication that she expected to be picked up.

The fact that Fury then did just that shocked everyone, supporting Sara on his hip as her small arms wrapped around his neck as she looked down at Star. Every other eye in the room was on him.

"Not a single word," he informed them.

"Auntie Lu looks so young," Sara told them.

Her family had been given a very limited clearance as to the procedure used on her since it was now impossible to hide the effects of the serum.

"Yes, she does," Bucky told her.

The brightest smile then appeared on her face as she thought of something. "Is she going to be my age soon?"

There was a round of giggles from the adults at the thought.

"No," Fury then told her. "The medicine is healing her body, including her skin and hair, not making her younger. But she will still be your Auntie Lu."

"Any chance of getting some of that medicine?"  David asked from where he had stopped at the door. Stepping over, he took Sara into his arms from Fury. "Oh, well. It was just wishful thinking."

"What do you want to do today?" Steve asked Sara.

"Playground!"

Recalling the story Star had told him of how much Sara liked the obstacle course at the FBI, he came up with an idea. Whispering into Steve's ear, he quickly told him.

"Remember the playground from where Auntie Lu works?" Steve asked her.

Sara eagerly nodded her head.

"How would you like to see the one we have?"

"Yes," she said wiggling so that David had to let her to the floor. She ran over to Steve and took his hand and started to drag him from the room.

"Oh, this I have to see," Sam stated, following the pair. Natasha, Fury, and David all nodded their heads in agreement and filed out the door too.

Bucky sat back down in his chair, took Star's hand in his and gave it a kiss. He liked that their friends were always checking on her and him, but he liked the quiet time with just Star.

Running his free hand through her now solid brown hair, if it wasn't for the shorter length Bucky would swear it was the same as back at the cabin. Her skin was flawless from the damage done to it. And he had even noted that the small burn marks on her arms were not as noticeable as they had been.

The doctors had told him earlier this morning that if her back continued to heal at the same rate, they would let her wake up in only a few more days. He had never been so relieved in his entire life.

* * *

Star felt like there was a thickness in her mind that was holding her down…from understanding where she was. At first, Star couldn't tell if she was awake or asleep, but then realized to even think _that_ then she must be awake…or at least semi-conscious. She then tried to stretch out a bit, her entire body feeling a bit stiff, as if waking from a long nap.

Running her tongue around her dry mouth, she could feel something lying near her nose...or maybe in it? What had somebody done to her?

And suddenly it all came back to her.

She was still in Tommy's workshop.

Instead of still hanging, she was lying down. But the sounds emanating from around her were _not_ what she expected to be hearing.

It was just so wrong to hear Elvis singing when you are about to die. That was just so depressing.

Her muscles tensed up as the memory of the last time she was awake came back to her. If she passed out again without escaping from here, she may never wake up again. Not knowing if she was alone, Star tried to carefully move parts of her body so that if Tommy was here he would not know that she was awake and resume his work on her back.

What had Tommy done to her? What was he about to do to her? She needed to get out of here before he returned.

Her breathing became heavier with fear at the thought as she tried to get her eyes to open, but the moment they parted a sliver she saw that it was still dark.

If it was dark, then maybe Tommy was gone for a bit, maybe to sleep. And maybe that was why she was lying down, it was nighttime.

Trying to move her arms, she had an easier time with her right one. Something heavy was over her left one down but it didn't feel like the handcuffs. No matter what, it was broken and there was no way she was going to be able to use it to escape.

But trying to figure out if the item was securing her in some way, she gave it more of a bigger movement...and something cold clamped down onto it.

Tommy knew she was awake, and Star panicked.

Crying out in fear as she tried to struggle, her breathing becoming shallow pants as the ideas of what he could start doing to her flooded her mind.

"Star, I need you to calm down and stop moving."

 _Star_?

Tommy didn't know that name.

And she recognized that voice.

 _Scary_.

Doing as he asked, her breathing became easier as she opened her eyes again. Her lids were heavy, as if she was extremely tired and the little light nearby hurt her eyes, but eventually she caught her first glimpse of Scary looming over her. A calmness swept through her body at just the sight of him, making her feel better. Star was pretty sure that this time seeing him was not an illusion. It felt too real.

"Hey there, Doll," he was smiling at her while running his hand over her forehead. "You need to lay still. You are in the medical wing at Shield and you are safe."

Looking past Scary, Star could see the white walls and medical equipment surrounding the bed she was in. Just past the sound of Elvis' crooning voice, the steady beep of a heart monitor could be heard. There was only one way that she was still alive and not in that basement. Reconnecting their eyes, Star could see relief filling his.

"You…came…for…me?" she managed to whisper out through dry lips.

Releasing her hand, Scary touched her cheek with his metal hand, and as she leaned into his cool touch, he told her, "I'll always come for you. You will always be mine."

That was when she began to cry.


	67. Alternate Ending: Part Three - Epilogue

**Song: _We've Got Tonight_ by Bob Seger (Star & Scary's Song)**

* * *

A while later, Bucky sat in the chair still holding her hand after helping Star into a sitting position before a doctor and nurse came into the room and began to examine her. They asked a lot of question about how she felt and any pain she might be experiencing, to which she told them that there was none. Relief overcame him as she said that.

During the quick explanation of the injuries she'd had, Star began to recall _all_ of the things that Tommy had done. He had been the one to calm her down again as a small panic attack came on as the memories began to wash over her. Thanks to Sam trying to help with his own, he knew what to do. There was no mistaking the terror in her eyes from what she had gone through, and it hurt him inside that he had not been there to stop it.

At her request, he climbed onto the bed to be closer to her. Star had wrapped herself around him, squeezing tightly as if to prevent him from leaving as well as to keep her safe. But he already knew how strong she was and what she had already been through, so he had no doubt that she would recover, especially with him there beside her to help this time.

After the doctor left, trying to make her feel a bit better, he teased her, "When you told me to come home, I guess I needed to make it clear that I expected you to be there for me."

"I'll remember that next time, Scary," she softly said while smiling up at him, intertwining her fingers with his silver ones. How delicate they looked, easily touching him without fear.

After a few moments, she asked him, "Does my hand look different to you?"

Seeing the more toned muscle structure and smoother skin, he knew what she was asking.

"You are going to have to talk with the scientist and doctor about the procedure Shield used to save you," he told her. "They'll explain the details."

"Procedure?"

"It's not something that is normally used," he told her. "But trust me when I say that I think you'll be fine with the results."

Not long after, Star had fallen asleep nestled against him. Even for sleeping for so long, her body was using a lot of its energy to heal with the serum. Instead of moving back to his chair, which would disturb her, Bucky just continued to lay there with his Star resting against him. It was during this time that he sent Steve the long awaited text that she was finally awake.

Bucky knew that Steve had been right.

He didn't want anyone else to be there in case she woke up from a nightmare. He knew that no matter what, there was no way he would ever leave her again.

Sleeping for almost an hour, after waking up and still trying to process what had happened to her, Star finally ask, "How long have I been here?"

"Eleven days," he told her still holding her, running his fingers through her shortened hair. "The doctors kept you in a coma to keep any pain, from the serum or the injuries, from hurting you."

"Tommy has always been good at his job," she sighed.

"Not anymore he won't be," making sure to sound firm with that statement, as Star lifted an eyebrow towards him.

"Did you kill him?" she asked sounding hopeful.

"No."

"Fuck," she stated before giving him a devious smile, "Is it too late for me to put in a request?"

"Just say the word and by tonight…"

"He'll still be asleep in his cell!" Steve's amused voice sounded from the doorway.

Turning her head a bit, they saw the smile that was actually on Steve's face at hearing her request.

"Spoilsport," she mumbled while leaning her head back onto his chest as Steve made his way into the room carrying the lunch that either he or Sam had been bring him from the commissary daily. He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone for as long as it would take to go get the food. "What's the point of having an assassin as a boyfriend if he can't do favors for you?"

"Technically, he doesn't do that anymore," Steve offered coming to stand by her. Steve got a smile on his face, then asked, "Feel like a visitor. She's been _very anxious_ for you to wake up."

Star didn't seem to even guess who was about to come through that door, probably imagining Sherry as she answered, "Sure, why not?"

He then began to untangle himself from beside and underneath Star wanting to be able to see what was about to happen. She looked disappointed at not being able to keep touching him. Steve handed him the bag of food once he was upright.

"Come on in," Steve called out towards the hall once Bucky was back in the chair right next to her.

Seconds later, a small bundle of energy in pink ran into the room, only stopping when she impacted the side of the bed.

"Surprise, Auntie Lu!" Sara grinned up at Star with a wide smile.

"Sara!" she carefully reached over to hug her, looking at Scary and Steve for an answer before David walked in the door.

"LSD, about time you finally woke up. If I didn't know better, I would think that you were ignoring us," he told her as he took her hand into his.

"Never," she said as Steve helped Sara up onto the bed so she could sit with her. "You've been here the whole time?"

"I think so," Sara answered, pulling at her shorter hair. "Poppy and me have been staying at your house. I've been sleeping in your big bed."

"I hope that you don't mind," David inquired, "but when Sara's parents gave the okay for her to stay with me until you woke up, being in a hotel for that long would have been unbearable."

"Not a problem. I'm glad that you were able to stay," she looked at Sara and poked her stomach, getting a giggle.

Star looked over at him.

"Where were you during all of this?" she asked.

"Right here the entire time," he admitted to her. "Steve and Sam bring me actual food and a change of clothes daily."

"That explains the shirt," she reached over and tugged at the collar of his shirt. "I was wondering why you were dressed like orange sherbet. I thought for a moment that my color vision was a bit out of whack."

"Nope," Steve grinned, handing him the bag. "It's just my subtle way of getting revenge."

"We're going to stay just a few more days now that you are awake," David told her. "Do you remember any of us talking while you were sleeping?"

"No, I don't think so. When I woke, I still thought…" she paused for a moment as she looked at Sara, "…it was that same day."

David nodded in understanding, even if Sara didn't.

"Well, so you know, Mom did come up with us."

"She did? Where is she?"

There was no mistaking the look that the three if them gave at that question before David and Steve focused onto him. Star then turned her gaze to him for the answer.

"She decided to go home after that first day," he then sheepishly told her, getting a look of curiosity from her. "I _may have insinuated_ that she was not welcomed here."

"Mom started to go off on one of her usual rants about you and your job. Then she moved on to your past. Bucky didn't care too much for what she said. By the end of his comments, he told her to get the fuck out, and LSD, that's _exactly_ what she did. It was _so nice_ to see someone put her in her place. I wish I had it on video for you," she hadn't seen David smile that wide in a long time.

"Poppy said a bad word!" Sara was pointing at her grandfather.

"I'm old...I'm allowed to," he told her bopping her nose with his fingertip.

"Does that mean that Auntie Lu can't say bad words anymore?" Sara then asked, her innocent eyes looking around the room at everyone.

"Why wouldn't I be able to curse?" Star asked before focusing in on him for the answer.

It seemed that everyone else in the room was also going to let him take this question.

"Um, well, as you know, the serum healed your injuries," he started, taking her hand into his. "But it turns out that there were some side-effects."

Star's face dropped to a blank mask.

"What type of side-effects?"

"Come with me," he told her, helping her up from the bed. Sara took hold of her other hand as he led her over to the small bathroom. Inside was a long mirror which would help answer her question.

Stepping up to the mirror, Star's hand dropped from his as she reached up to touch her own face...the one that looked just how she had years ago. Turning around she examined the rest of her body, finding every part different than what she remembered.

"Sara, can you step outside for a minute?" she asked while already giving her a gentle push out the door.

As soon as she closed the door, Star untied the hospital robe and let the fall to the floor.

"Holy fucking shit!" she cursed while examining her naked body in the mirror. Her hands ran over entire body, eventually ending up at her more perky breasts. "I haven't looked like this since..."

"We first met," he finished for her. "But there is something you haven't noticed yet."

Star then let him turn her around so that she could just see her back, and more curses flew from her mouth.

"What...how...who...?" she was running her hands the best she could over the skin of her smoother, flawless back.

"The doctors had to remove the damaged skin that was left. There was nothing left of the scar that Kozlov gave you. The serum then started to heal the area starting anew."

Star then opened her palms and looked down into them. The initials and lines that had once been carved into her skin were non-existent. Her fingers trailed over where the line on her belly used to be. Lifting her foot, he saw the smoother skin there too.

Every single trace of Kozlov had been erased from her body.

* * *

"How is she doing?" Steve asked coming into the gym area where Star was running on the treadmill.

"A hell of a lot better then Sam will ever do," he grinned in response.

Fury had ordered a series of test for Star before she would be discharged to go home. The scientist were looking forward to learning of the results of the serum on her body. During the morning, she'd had to endure pokes, prods, blood samples, x-rays, and CAT scans. There were a few other test run on her that he'd stepped outside of the room for.

So far, she was getting a clean bill of health from everyone.

"She's already gone her longest marathon distance is almost half the time, and she doesn't even seem to be tired," Bucky couldn't help but smile knowing how much more resilient she now was. "Her strength is double of what a typical twenty-five year old female should be. Nobody is going to ever hurt her again."

Steve gave a nod, knowing that the statement could be taken two ways: not only was Star stronger, but Bucky (and he) would be there to protect her.

"So, still want to hold off telling Sam?" Steve nodded at Star waving at him from the treadmill.

"Of course."

* * *

Bucky sat at in the very uncomfortable chair next to Star's while they waited for the doctor. Before finally letting her be discharged, this was the final meeting required of her. He had offered to sit outside to give her privacy but Star had pointed out that there was nothing a doctor could say that he didn't need to hear.

After a couple of long minutes, the door finally opened and the doctor arrived...along with Scientist Number Two, as he had dubbed him.

"Is everything alright?" Star's voice was now more worried sounding than it had been upon arriving.

"Yes, it is," the doctor said, taking his seat as Number Two stood next to the desk. "We just wanted to confirm our findings one more time before letting you know of the results of the test we ran."

"Alright," Star said hesitantly. "Which test? There were so many."

"Your gynecological exam," he said looking pleased for some reason. That was one of the test he had not been in the room with her for.

"I still don't understand why that one was necessary," she pointed out. "I haven't needed one for thirty years."

"Well, you will from this point forward," the doctor smiled again.

"Why?" she asked.

Number Two then spoke up, "Consider it another side effect of the serum."

"What side effect?" he angrily asked, hoping that they had not somehow injured Star...

The doctor raised his hands placatingly.

"The serum fixed the damage to your body...all damage. External and internal," he firmly stated, waiting for a few dramatic seconds before continuing. "You once again now have fully functioning reproductive organs."

A pin dropping would have sounded like thunder in the quietness of the room.

"You mean, I can get pregnant?"

With a smile, the doctor confirmed, "Yes, you can."

Minutes later, as they two of them were walking down the hall, he deviated them down a corridor towards somewhere they could have a bit of privacy.

Arriving at Steve's office, Bucky shut the door, locked it behind them, and closed the blinds to the hallway.

"Are you alright?" he asked taking her hands into his.

"I never even considered..." she started before looking up at him. "Are you alright with this? We'd have to be more careful in the future if you don't want...kids."

"With you, I'll always be alright," he told her, pressing his lips to her for a kiss. Pulling back he grinned at her, and tilted his head at the item behind them. "Want to make Steve have to get a new desk?"

* * *

"That was Natasha," Scary called out to her from the kitchen where he was making them lunch after hanging up the phone. "She on the way over."

"Does this mean that I will finally get to find out where she's been hiding at?" Star joked as she lay on the couch watching Scary fix them sandwiches. He had become very proficient over the past few days with meal times since she had finally been allowed to come home. He had gone into overprotective mode and there was nothing to do about it but enjoy.

"Yes."

She waited for more of an explanation but it seemed that none was forthcoming. David had found the attention given to her very amusing, while Sara kept handing Scary things to crush with his hand…coins had been her favorite since they were easy to get a hold of. Sara had taken home a small bag filled with new shaped items when she and David had left yesterday.

Sara had gone with her to the salon to have Caroline fix the remains of her hair. When she had walked in, all of the women had rushed over to find how what had happened. Fury had given instructions on how much could be told in public, and not a single word of the serum could be uttered. Caroline looked distraught as she listened, then got to work straighten out the edges. It now rested just touching her shoulders, all of it one dark brown length. Scary even seemed to like it as he was able to run his fingers through it. Maybe she would consider growing it out again, but she already liked the easier washing and quicker nighttime ritual of the reduced length.

Not long after they began eating, Nat arrived and Scary opened the door for her while looking extremely eager. Star managed to get through a few minutes of pleasantries out of the way before her curiosity got to be too much.

"So, care to tell me what is going on since this one here," jamming her finger into Scary's arm, "refuses to?"

"Bucky asked for my help with a project. So, for the past two weeks, I've been dealing with bureaucratic red tape…in Moscow."

Hearing that, it was far beyond any of the wild ideas she had come up with.

"Why would you be there?"

"It turns out," Scary started, "that Natasha found all the hand-written journals the O'Connells kept for their high-end clients since Fintan was running the family. She told the analysts going through them to be on the lookout for a particular name."

"Mine?" she asked.

"Not exactly," Nat offered. "Yuri Kozlov."

"And you found it?" she asked.

"Yes. And this is what we found," Nat then pulled the journal from her bag, opening it to a marked page. It took a moment for her to understand what the three names, cities, and dates that were listed next to her own meant.

"Ruby Harris, Cincinnati, 1967. Jackie Clark, Pittsburgh, 1972. Grace Moore, Charlotte, 1975. This is them?" she asked hearing her voice crack. "You found their real names."

"Not only that, but the project that I've been working on is that I finally managed to gain custody of their remains now that we had proof that they were _not_ Russian citizens. Their records showed their bodies were still in the police storage warehouse, where they've been sitting since 1984. It took three days of searching but we finally found them. As of right now, they are at the Triskelion. I had an analyst run searches for missing girls with those names, cities, and dates, she was able to locate their families."

Star knew that the tears were about to fall.

"They can finally be put to rest," Scary told her as she stared at the names again.

Reaching around, she grabbed onto both of their necks pulling them into hugs. She had never actually believed that this would really be happening. After they indulged her for a few moments, she wiped the tears from her eyes, as she kept looking over the names.

"I always wondered where Kozlov had gotten their pet names, and now it makes sense."

"It does?" Nat asked. "The police boxes were marked with the pet names on them but we were planning on running DNA samples from relatives to confirm their identities."

"I'm pretty sure I'm right though. Ruby was Jewel. Jackie was Lady. And Grace was Princess."

"How do you know?" Scary asked.

"Because _I_ remember history," she joked with him, jabbing her elbow into his side. "Ruby is easy. Grace was for _Princess_ Grace of Monaco, one of Kozlov's favorite actresses. Jackie should be for First _Lady_ Jackie Kennedy, wife of J.F.K."

Hearing that, Scary's eyes went wide from recognizing that name.

"What?" Nat asked looking at his expression.

"What do you know of conspiracy theories?" she grinned at her.

* * *

After so many years, only three of the six parents of the girls' was still alive, and they were late eighties to nineties. Even though some of the parents had died never knowing what had become of their daughters, at least the girls were no longer just sitting forgotten on a shelf.

During the funerals, there were also siblings and more distant relatives who had attended to learn what had happened to their missing family member had attended. All of the families were open with their little known stories, but they did leave out the actual cause of death, which the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical examiner had been able to confirm as the ax. Star found out that she had also been right about their identities when they got the DNA tests back.

Steve, Sam, and Nat had gone with them to all three funerals, making it a very memorable week long trip. After the first night in a hotel room, Steve had requested that his room not be directly next to hers and Scary's due to their ' _loud nocturnal activities_ '. She'd teased Steve about his voyeurism at catching them together in his bedroom, causing Nat to actually laugh while Sam quickly turned around and walk away from all of them.

* * *

 "So, are you planning on going back to work soon?" Sam asked her as they slowly jogged their normal route. Scary and Steve had taken off not long ago. She knew exactly what the plan was.

"Actually, I've been considering finally retiring."

"Really?" Sam asked her.

"I've been with the Bureau for over twenty-five years, since right after college."

"Sometimes I forget how _old_ you are," he joked, earning a soft punch in his arm.

"Very funny, Wilson. I'm going to have Nat sneak into you place and dye your hair gray," she threatened.

"Ain't nothing that can spoil these good looks! It would probably make me look distinguished," he grinned.

"Well, something needs to," she teased back, earning her a narrow eyed sneer from him.

"Did your bosses say anything about how you look now?" he asked her.

"Not really," she told him. "Hopefully they think that it was just the world's best face cream and some hair dye."

"You would actually consider retiring? Thanks to the serum, you could keep going for a long time."

"Maybe, but for years my main goal was wanting to take down the O'Connells. It was the one thing I had hoped to accomplish, and as it turns out, with a bit of pain and help, I did."

Sam seemed to consider her words as they quietly ran for a bit, getting closer to the long reflecting pool where she would put Scary's idea into play.

"Have you mentioned this to Bucky?"

"Not yet. With the way he's been hovering over me, I'm not sure how he will take it. Either he'll be happy that I'll no longer be doing anything dangerous _or_ he'll think that I'm just using it as an excuse to hide some pain and/or mental trauma."

"How are you doing with what happened?" he asked her carefully. It was nice to have someone concerned about her.

"Overall, I'm fine," which earned her a ' _I doubt that_ ' look from Sam. "I dealt with so much thanks to Kozlov that even with what he did, Tommy's actions were just pain, not even in league with the mental trauma I've put behind me. I still get bad dreams, thanks to both of them, but now Scary is there for me when I wake up from them. Besides, I think that I won out with what the serum has done to me."

That gave Sam something to think about for a while before he continued on by asking...

"So what would you do if you did retire? Sit around _knitting_ all day?"

"You're about to find yourself _in_ that reflecting pool," she pointed at the short side of the shape. "And I have no idea what I would do. I never thought that it would actually happen so I never planned ahead."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much," Sam told her as they almost reached the turn to run along the long side. "You never know what the future may bring."

Just as they both got into stride, Star got Sam's attention, saying, "Hey, Sam. Watch this."

With that, she then took off at the much faster pace then anyone else, besides Scary and Steve, could do. Seconds after starting at one end with Sam, she was half way to the end thanks to her new increased speed.

"Oh, come on! That's so not fair!" Sam faint screaming voice reached her near the pool's end where Steve and Scary were talking with Nat while waiting for the two of them to appear. They were standing together at the end of the pool in the exact same spot where they had met after so long of being apart. Coming up next to them, she turned around to watch Sam trying his best to put on some more speed to catch up with her.

"That was a lot more satisfying than I had believed it would be," Scary told her, wrapping his arms around her waist as they watched Sam slowly approaching the group.

"Be nice," she told him just as Sam reached them. "At least he still has a chance to beat Natasha in a race."

Pointing at Nat, Sam stated, "She probably would shoot me in the back if I tried."

Nat opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated, and then instead just shook her head in agreement, giving just the slightest smile.

Scary's arms then disappeared from her waist as Steve got his attention and he whispered something into Scary's ear, earning him a determined nod.

When Scary turned back around, the name for the emotion that she would be able to use right then was scared…maybe worried, hopeful, nervous, and excited would also work. As she went to ask him what was wrong, she saw him fiddling with something now in his hand…a small black box. She'd seen similar ones many times before. He took her hand to lead her a few feet from the others.

"Star," Scary's voice pulled her eyes back up to his face. Then he began in Russian, "{For far too long, my life has been nothing but a series of dark tragedies heading towards painful nothingness before fading to cold loneliness. But somehow in the middle of a life of evil deeds, there was a brief moment when I had a guide towards a glimpse of happiness. My Star. I promised thirty years ago to come back to you and there was a lot of suffering along the way, but I finally was able to keep that promise to you. I know that I said it then, and even more recently, but Star…you are mine. And I plan on proving it to you.}"

She could feel her heart starting to pound harder than when she had been running.

"{There is a darkness that still resides in me, and I do not believe that it will ever truly go away. But I know that out of everyone else alive, you are the guiding star who had always been able to shine to see through that darkness and never be afraid of me. I don't know if my darkness will dampen your light, and it may be selfish of me to do this…but I will never let you go. I once said that I only wished that I had been with you so we could grow old together. And now, with help from Steve, we have been given those years back to do exactly that...if you'll still have me.}"

The box in his hand opened and inside was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. It was a classic large round pink diamond flanked by two smaller diamonds on a silver band. As Scary removed it from the box, he carefully took her injured left hand and slipped it on without a word. Speechless, she could only lift her hand to get a better look at the ring. And when she did, Star noticed that the cut of the pink diamond formed a star pattern through the stone. That was when she became aware of him dropping to his knee before her.

"{Lucinda Star Trencher, would you do me the honor of _finally_ becoming my wife?}"

Even knowing that the question was coming, hearing it actually spoken aloud made her eyes water up. Scary was looking up at her with that smile that always made her go weak in the knees and this time was no exception. Bending over, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he latched onto her waist.

"{Yes, Scary. I will.}"

* * *

Scary had been driving for a few hours and by now she would probably be bored, but not today since it was her first day as Mrs. Lucinda Barnes. She kept glancing at the wedding band next to her engagement ring. Smooth, shiny platinum to match Scary's arm with a single star shaped cut red diamond embedded into the band. Scary had pointed out that he wanted to make sure that there was no question as to whom she belonged to. She could only smile at his possessive nature coming through, and she didn't mind it at all.

The wedding had actually gone off without a hitch, even with it being on a very tight timeline. Her mother, of course, disapproved of the date both her and Scary had easily agreed on…Halloween. It only seemed fitting that they start a new life on the same day they they had left an old one.

When Scary had asked her what she had always dreamed her wedding to be like, she had admitted that after one failed engagement that she gave up and didn't want what she had wanted then. So since most of her family still lived around Savannah, and he didn't have any, they agreed to a chapel on the beach at sunset. Steve had been the best man with Sherry as the maid of honor. Sara had been the flower girl. Both of them had worn pink dresses...with Sherry's being the most unflattering design she could find. Sherry had loved it, having just as weird of a sense of humor as she did some times.

For her own dress, she had gone with an A-line sleeveless corset top dress. She had authority to give her mother some of the details of what she serum did to her, and not many of her relatives knew about the damage that had been done to her back. They would just assume that she had the best makeup artist ever assisting her on her wedding day.

Scary had to point out very late last night that he couldn't trace the scar lines with his tongue anymore and would have to find somewhere else to occupy his tongue. She had given him a few lewd suggestions...each one bringing a smile to his face as he tried them out.

Continuing to drive them to wherever he had chosen for their honeymoon, every so often to get her attention, Scary would use his fingers to jingle the charms of her bracelet. Steve had told her about him finding it and having it fixed while she was in the hospital. Scary had put it back on for her not long after she had woken up.

Feeling the car slow, Scary turned them off of the road that he'd been on for some time and Star noticed they were heading down a long dirt drive surrounded by trees. Sitting up a bit better, she didn't see any sign of other houses but they had just passed through a small town not long back.

"Where exactly are you taking us?" she asked again, hoping for an answer this time.

"You couldn't wait ten more seconds?" Scary grinned at her.

Up ahead, the trees parted to reveal a small cabin-style house. Her mind was thrown back to long ago when they'd had something so similar. Stopping the car, they got out as he came around and took her hand.

"I had Natasha help me find a small, out of the way place for us to stay at for the next ten days. Only this one has food delivery while not requiring a generator."

She couldn't help but laugh.

Walking up to the cabin, Scary unlocked and swung the door open wide. When she went to step inside, he grabbed a hold of her and swept her up off of her feet.

"It's bad luck for the bride to walk in, and we need all the good luck we can get," he pointed out.

Nestling into his arms, she wrapped her own around his neck while giving him a kiss. With their lips still locked together, Scary's strong arms moved her to body so they were instead chest to chest with her legs wrapped around his waist. Feeling his hardness pressing against her as she began to grind on him, Star barely noticed as they went inside and Scary slammed the door closed behind them with his foot.

_The End!_


End file.
